Jack floated aimlessly in an empty dreamscape, waiting to wake up. He looked himself over, everything clearly visible even with no light source. He pulled his knees up to his chest and straightened them out again. He even pinched himself a few times - that was a sure fire way to wake up was it not?

  Minutes passed as Jack grew increasingly annoyed. "This is my dream" he thought to himself. "My lucid dream, as far as I can tell." He tried imagining himself somewhere else; his suburban bedroom on the outskirts of the city, the cafeteria of his highschool surrounded by his friends.

  He closed his eyes tightly while thinking "I'm wearing a spacesuit!" peeking out to see if it had any effect. Alas, he was still wrapped up in the covers of the bed from back in the cabin where he assumed he was still fast asleep. He scrunched his eyes again and thought of his crush, Alice, all dressed up in the cheerleader outfit he most often saw her in. Still nothing. "What kind of stupid dream is this? I can't see anything, I can't hear anything, I have no control over anything. And since when are dreams so god damned cold?"

  While he was staring blankly ahead, bemoaning the injustice of such a stupid dream, he realised he was not completely alone as he noticed a pinprick of light floating slowly accross his line of sight. He couldn't make out any details, and the only memory he could compare it to was the sight of the odd satellite streaking overhead when he was out in the countryside, not blinded by the pollution of the city lights.

  It wasn't moving that fast, but with no frame of reference he really couldn't tell whether it was near or far, large or small.

  Looking around again, it was apparent that his eyes had adjusted to the almost complete darkness around him, and that there were, in fact, many more of these faint lights visible.

  Some were moving slower, some faster; almost all apparently heading in the same direction relative to himself. "So I'm in space. Without a space suit. But still breathing. Maybe I should have checked the expiry dates on those cans of food because this is a seriously fucked up dream" he said out loud.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  In the corner of his left eye, a slightly yellowish spot appeared. What caught his attention was that this dot appeared almost stationary, and was rapidly getting brighter. A frown appeared as Jack thought about this new, different light. Was it stationary because it was moving directly towards or away from him? The increasing brightness suggested the former. Would he finally be able to see one of these mystery objects close up?

  He was still pondering all this when the unidentified flying dot flashed past him, seemingly no more than an arms length away. He could barely make out what appeared to be a palm sized disc of amber as it flew past. "I'm glad this is just a dream, 'cause that would have stung!" he reassured himself. He certainly didn't want to find out what being hit by the equivalent of a fast baseball pitch felt like, even if this was a dream.

  The now rapidly dwindling dot that represented his near miss abruptly veered up.

  As did the few others in his field of vision. Before this sudden change could really register, a searing pain erupted, feeling like someone had shoved a red hot poker into the side of his chest just under his left armpit! "FUCK! Wake up!" he yelled out. He could accept the dream being cold, but the pain? It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, and he was damn sure that you were supposed to either not feel this level of pain in a dream, or wake up before you could!

  It dawned on him that it wasn't the dots that had veered off in a different direction, it was him that had been sent spinning! And judging by the wetness he could feel where the pain had spiked from a moment ago, something had hit him hard. Hard enough to spin his seventy kilo frame and hard enough to draw blood.

  He lifted his left arm to check the damage, feeling a most un dreamlike pain shooting through his side as he did so. Not being used to the sight of blood - at least, not his own - he almost vomited as he saw a palm sized area of it seeping through his shirt, the odd droplet separating and being flung out into space, as he continued to spin. Was that a hole he saw? He couldn't see anything around him that could have caused the impact. Was it still inside him? "Well, this isn't good..."

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  Deep in a forest where the leaves were more blue than green, space trembled and cracked, and had anyone been around they would have been witness to the sight of an adolescent youth appearing out of thin air, travelling at speed before crashing unceremoniously into some undergrowth. A youth wearing a bloodstained and ragged shirt, fortunately wrapped in just enough material to ward off the worst of the scrapes he would have otherwise suffered.

  The figure groaned in obvious pain, attempting to move with no luck for a few moments before finally succumbing to circumstance and passing out.