Falling with Jelly Beans and Clouds
written by: Verity Mason
I must be dreaming; one sock hangs limply from my foot, and I’m clutching a jabbering paper bag of purple jelly beans. Unsteady, I trip over my own feet and begin falling. The pink sky above me is decorated with clouds shaped like well-thumbed books, floating and bumping into each other.
A warm breeze kisses my cheeks; I wrinkle up my nose against the whiff of the spongy, boiled tripe my grandma used to cook, and someone, far away, is playing the trumpet off-key.
A green wingback chair glides by with a white mouse crouched low in a sailor’s suit. Unperturbed by each other’s presence, we nod politely as the vole continues nibbling away at a piece of blue cheese, crumbling between its tiny digits.
Falling, I drift past a suspended traffic light; its signals wink from honey to peanut butter and raspberry jam, glowing like stained glass against an inky canopy.
At the bottom I touch down onto a trampoline made of freshly, buttered toast, bouncing once, twice, as the breadcrumbs scatter like confetti.
“Sonny, breakfast’s ready; come and get it.”
My mother’s voice rings out like she’s been waiting for the exact moment I hit the mattress.
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