.
.
Awake far too early as well. A gusher, woke out of simple need mechanics, turned into a full flight with a handful of gore, trying to get something to stopper the flow before my meager giant paws filled. Only made it by the teeth on my skin. No, I know how most say it. My way seems more reasoned, to me. Or at least as reasoned as the other way, only a different way. Ugh, may already have to change the plug... one sec... better.
On the good side, I woke with quite the dream.
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In the dream I had been living in a seacondo. In my case, it was an two-story air-pocket dwelling, about 35 to 45 feet below the surface of the water. Through this or that method, the demense could be invisble, as if part of the sea, appear as an air bubble, or be made to appear as a large rock so as to offer varying levels of privacy. One could always see out, not always in. Water pumps and air blowers, a primary and secondary security zone, and a few other fiddlies to make the magic happen as safely as possible.
Just the setting. Fresh fish and crustaceans, of course, if natural toxicity was a cap. Twice yearly blood panels, if you were on it. Fruits and veggies easily grown or purchased from the float-vens. Still seeking better names for things like that. How to be brief, simple to understand, and not too odd. Floating vendors, float-vens? Perhaps the term would stick, stuck without a good option.
A couple started visiting occasionally. They, to me, seemed to be seeking a place to stay, but would not ask. I broached the subject. No interest in anything, just an offer of occasional light visitation. Sometimes we would cohabit. There were privacy measures within as well, I presume for just such events, if even man and wife like privacy from one and the other and not just rarely. Sometimes I would go visiting while they stayed. They weren't a burden, simply they reminded me, vicariously, that there were other places to be.
I enjoyed their company, as if siblings, having no romantic interests or curiosity. They, through half a decade or more seemed a stable happy as it goes couple. I didn't see the change. Maybe there had always been a problem, it hadn't included me or otherwise been made apparent. Jealousy?
In the end both came to accuse me of an affair with the other. What madness could this be. They were always together when I was near them, or more precisely they were near me. More, I didn't visit them as the previous comment suggests implicitly. I had nothing but kind feelings for them. At first it was mild teasing accusations, then terser jabs, leading to...
She visited one day on her own. Well, her and a pretty little .38. Angry. Accusing. I tried to reason, she was having none of it. Eventually I was introduced to her dark blue intent. I was sure I was dead. We were in the patio area, which is flooded to the waste as a preliminary exit area, the water being a warning, if also a relaxing nook in which to read, eat, or entertain.
She didn't see him approaching. He had something in his hands, something... colorful. Amends? Flowers? Moving. She said something, something I couldn't make out for the background event unfolding and that when my attention was brought to bear more proximately it came to roost upon the yawning hole through which speedy pain, maybe death, might quickly fly. What, I asked. My mind trying to keep up while losing traction from too much confusion and danger. I did not tell her about his approach. I decided to let him make whatever play he intended, in hope of a better outcome than the one obviously before me. She was still talking, a good thing, I thought. I still couldn't hear, understand, her.
She stopped talking. She became pale, then limp. She lost all expression, the hand holding the revolver drooped, slightly sounding as it struck the glass table. I feared it would just go off. It ended up released, falling to it's side, as it's mistress slid off her chair to be floated in the waste-deep water. A pretty woman in life, with a ghostly, spectral beauty in her newfound palor and quiet somehow relaxed state... The movement of the water returning the appearance of some sort of life to her.
The horror, seeing one so pretty, and loved, gone before my eyes, even with all that lead to it. My mind arrested from too much insanity, nothing made sense. Then he stepped from around her. Poisonous creature in hand. He suggested he couldn't let me have her. I pointed to the gun, attempted reason, failed again. He let it go. It was coming right for me. I was frozen, not so much in fear as exhaustion, pain of loss, and... something else... several other things? I lost to the moment so will never know.
Half the distance toward me, something happened. A small wave, or was that caused by it turning. He was as frozen as I remained. So fast! He resembled her. In moments I first lost the faith of some of my closest friends, then had my life threatened in two different ways, then lost those friends. Perhaps, some day I will know why.
Between standard evidence and the thrdee home security, police quickly allowed me to mourn in solitude.
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