Flying Dream

Flight dreams don't come that often, but they're always joyful.

This one felt personal. Imagine returning to your childhood home, and finding that you're a couple of decades early because you're looking at the home as it once was, before the surrounding council houses and residences. Back when it was just a lonely old house atop a sloping garden, all fields.

What made it a flight dream was my cloak. I wore a cloak made of a black material which could stretch either side of me on a thought, becoming wings which generated lift. I was walking down the bottom road, a broad but rutted old highway. Calling upon the cloak, I began to fly up along the old field towards the house, flying no more than about five or so metres above the grass until I reached the house.

When I landed, the owner came out to meet me. His wife watched from a first storey window, petrified - she had seen me flying towards the house.

I explained that I will grow up in the old place - just that, for some reason unknown to me, I hadn't even been born yet. I was a traveller through time, and I had no idea how I'd come to be in this period, so early in the house's history.

I didn't tell him that he would be gone from the place by the 1970s, and that we would be the very next owners. I didn't need to tell him his future. I think his missus may have guessed.

The one thing I did do was to show to the owner that I could fly. I extended the cloak, took off, rose to around ten metres, followed the curvature and slope of the field, then took up a thermal and rose to a few hundred metres until I caught the local jet stream, then I just sped off towards the east a few minutes.

I told him that it would take about half an hour for me to get back, once I disengaged from the jet stream. I was right. and by the time I got back, a storm cloud was closing in from the east, lightning flashing overhead. I landed back on the grounds of the old place, and the owner asked me why I'd chosen to land early. I informed him that the air was about to get blustery - as I spoke, the wind picked up, proving me right.

The dream ended just as the old man invited me in to spend the night. I have no idea what he'd have thought of me, or my 21st century sensibilities. Or my weird occult creed. Or the things I had seen, in the years to come.