The barriers in the sky appeared as old carousel horses carrying mechanical knights unfurling a line of wire, seemingly flimsy, but their sting was deadly.
The further people got from the earth, the more insane everything became. The smiley face, projected on the clouds, was a lie. Things were not A-Okay at home.
As our ship descended toward the mountains, searching for a place to land, we ran into snow. We saw dogs, probably the offspring of former sled dogs, near the old landing plateau. They danced around a large figure. Who, or what could it be? We couldn’t tell through the snow.
The figure plodded through the snow, looking for something. As we got closer, we could see that it was not human. The shaggy hair covering it’s body suggested a bear, but it was more upright. I remembered my grandmother telling me a myth about an ape that lived in the mountains.
The dogs did not seem aggressive. They acted like the beast was a friend, like they wanted to play.
The pilot hesitated to land, but we had to go somewhere. I wanted to find out who lived up here in the mountains. Maybe they could help.
(This comes from a dream I had during a Sunday afternoon nap. It belongs to me. Maybe I’ll do something with it. Who knows.)