Munmun(79)

The planetball dwarfing on your hip, cometsilk between your fingers, starry powder fizzling to nothingness, rememberthat.

But this time it was a shrinkdream, the world violently ballooned around me, I even got too small to stay on top of its skin. The ground was so huge that cracks were yawning open in it everywhere, cracks in the air as well, joining, making a sea of darkness, another nothingness.

Soon I was floating in same old outerspace.

Outerspace, hello oldfriend, remember that time when I jammed my fingers in you.

Fingers, palms, elbow, I really dug around in you, I found a banker and scared the crap out of him.

Ohwell, it’s my last dream, might as well try it again.

So I grabbed, ripped, pulled on the wisps and strands and vapors.

“Oh come on,” said outerspace.

It was easier this time somehow, who knew why. But the nothingropes of outerspace were jumping into my fingers, toes, teeth.

“Please no, please stop,” pleaded outerspace.

Sorry outerspace, has to be done. I bit, yanked, twisted, whirled, it all unwrapped and fell apart, the lights came on, there was a banker again in a bright cold room.

“Somebody get in there and give him more solodream,” shrieked the banker, “we need another fiveminutes, help help help.”

But I shrank away from him in front of his horrified eyes, down onto a cloudy tabletop, through the cloudcover and down into widening Lossy Indica, the city bloomed beneath my winging arms.

I was loose in Dreamworld, dreamers drifted and watched me, a shrinking giant hiccuping back into hugeness every few seconds.

First they just stared, gaped, most didn’t know what they were seeing atfirst, lots of dreamers need to see something fivesickseven times to really get it.

They watched me shrink, blink, blow up, shrink again.

Then onebyone and twobytwo, insanities came swirling out of them, confusions and fearscapes.

I watched dreamer hands turn to paws, feet to useless tentacles, they stared crazy and afraid at their mutating bodies, collapsed inward like jello or paperbags. I watched the dreamers give eyes to the air, fingertips to the graspy ground. Space crumpled, time shuddered and flattened, in every direction a pit pulled and sucked.

Okay, I thought and also maybe said, I know my scaling is hard for you to deal with, infact it’s making you insane, it’s my last dream though, how about you just chill.

But no one would chill and beasts and demons began roaming the citystreets, countrylanes, lurching, shrieking. Horns and hooves, batwings, slithery tongues. Washmachining spiderlegs, nailfangs, hairneedles, firevom, lavacrap.

Chill while I make you something nice, I thought, did a little thinking about what’s the nicest thing I can make.

Where did I begin, I bet you can guess.

I searched and scanned, looking for a certain operahouse, braidheaded girl inside playing everycolor music, songropes I could braid into light, clay, water, smoke, foam.

Didn’t find the house though, instead the girl found me.

She was a moth, a dove, a little moon trembling in the air in front of my face.

“Warner ohgod, I’ve been looking and looking for you, everynight, Warner is that, Warner is that you,” she hiccuped.

Hope warmed me for a moment.

“Kitty,” I said. “Do you think you could come and save me one more time.”

“Warner where’d you go, why would you leave, whe, where are you and why are you scaling, oh, Warn, er, you’re hard to look at, can you s, stop for a second,” she shivered.

A super clear dreamer like Kitty doesn’t need fivesicktimes to realize what she’s seeing, the impossible insanity of a scaling dreamer, her bright wild brain was crazing prettyquick.

“Stopstop, stop looking, shut your eyes and please just listen,” I pleaded, “I’m in the Dockseye bankbranch, the faceboys kidnapped me for my scalemun, the bank’s giving me back to them prettysoon.”

Did she hear me though, I could see that she didn’t.

She twitched and glitched, shuddered at my downandup, bigsmallbig.

Her braids began unforking, wings began to spiderweb.

“Kitty just wake up though,” I urged, “main thing is, wake up.”

Her eyes were fuzzed, mouth was slacking.

Toolate I put walls between us, bricks around her, woods, trees, mountains.

“Ohgod Kitty just wake up,” I yelled, “don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine, Kitty I’m not Warner, I’m just dreamfluff, I’m a terrible kingkong somebody dreamed.”

“Kingcon,” I heard her ask all blurry.

I built an operahouse around her, tried to hide her in a concerthall.

Surrounded her with seats and boxes, orchestras and curtains, velvets, ribbons, a thousand ghostkings and queens to sing to.

I heard her dreamy mumble, Warner wh, why did, you leave, why did you go.

I dreamed her faraway, until I couldn’t hear her anymore.

Gazed around at the awfull shitscapes, tried to leave them too.

Hid myself inside a cave and tried to sing some kittysong, tried to remember the notes.

I couldn’t though, couldn’t make the music in my head, my memory is a glitchy phone, a rainedon painting.

It’s all too sad, it’s too hard, Warner, maybe it really is time for you to leave.

You made wild druggy fearzones in Dreamworld for too long, now everyone’s twitchy, touchy, ready to feel fear at a momentsnotice.