floating

It was a cloudy night over Turgidia city. The moon occasionally peeked its glowing visage through the broken cumulus clouds that seemed to strain with the burden of heavy rains seeking release. It was the kind of night that very few women would brave alone on foot, and with good reason...

I didn't know the first thing about Dreaming.

Sure, we all dream. Twisted in sweaty linens or clutching a pillow around our ears, usually. That's the bad dreams. But Dreaming, so I found out, is a little different. That was the best name they had for it, I guess. Other names were too tedious or weren't elegant enough. I didn't make the rules.

My name isn't Tracy, either. But it helps me to tell my tales if I'm just a wee bit annonymous. It doesn't make them any less fetching. Most of the time, I'm not even Tracy in my dreams.

Saturday mornings were a calm slow time in our household. That was really surprising actually, given that the house was in fact a converted water tower ten stories above the ground and it was also the secret base of the local superheroine, Airtankgirl. Me. I liked to spend my Saturday mornings doing nothing more than sitting in my jammies, reading magazines, and ignoring the doughnuts for a grapefruit. Which was exactly what I was doing at the moment.

Kim walked along Pacificana Avenue with a confident stride, for she knew that she definitely was qualified for one of best surf teams out there, the Venusian Wave Riders. She heard that the all-girl club had sort of an elitist attitude, but she figured they were always like that towards novices. As she turned left down an alley and headed towards the end, she spotted the small wood house at the end. When she got there, she checked the address. “2345, this is it!’ she happily remarked. She knocked on the door and waited for one of the club members to open the door and welcome her in.