Day 35: Dreaming of Islands in the Sky

“I don’t like this new gig,” said Jig from the top of the flying island.

Wedge vocalized his agreement. He stared at the dreamcatcher net and shook his head, puffing on his cigarette.

“Look,” said Jig, “there’s another island floating by. We better hop to it, old sport.”

She waved her net in the air as the other island flew past. She didn’t want to miss and fall into the open sky. Sure, this was a dream, but she didn’t understand the rules fully. She should have paid attention.

The owl feathers on her dreamcatcher net started fluttering, and the net nearly flew off without her. But she grabbed tight at the last second, and let it carry her off her feet, cursing in surprise. Wedge’s cigarette fell out of his gaping mouth as he watched Jig soar over to the passing island.

“Don’t just stand there!” Jig called back, hanging onto the net for dear life. “Fly, you fool!”

She managed to land safely on the too-green grass of the other island. It was passing fast–Wedge needed to get his ass in gear.

“Come on, flyboy!”

Wedge grumbled, and waved his net violently. The eagle feathers got the message and lifted him into the air. Normally, Wedge was the silent type. But he was also afraid of heights. He wailed and wailed, legs kicking in the air, struggling to direct the net to the passing island. It was almost completely out of reach, now.

“Oh, quit your hollering,” puffed Jig, dashing across the rim of the island. Wedge just barely missed the edge, soaring into the great blue nothingness of the dream.

His screaming only stopped when Jig’s net caught his face, the rim of the dreamcatcher snagging his throat.

“Get over here, feather-brain,” said Jig between her teeth, heaving Wedge toward her. Thankfully, his dreamcatcher net was still flying. She didn’t know how long it would be able to hold up a big guy like Wedge, but she didn’t plan on finding out.

When Wedge hit the ground, he all but kissed the grass.

“All right, all right,” said Jig. “Be professional, would ya? We’ve got a job to do. A really fucked-up job, but a job.”

“Oh, thank Christ!”

A man dashed out of a nearby forest made up of swirling, polka-dotted trees. He was wearing an Armani suit, and he looked several days unshaven.

“People!” the man called. “Thank you, Lord! You guys gotta get me outta here.”

Jig and Wedge looked at each other. Jig removed a folded piece of paper from her bag and examined it. Then she showed it to Wedge, who nodded.

“How do we do this?” Jig asked.

“What?” said the man.

Wedge motioned a swipe from his net.

“But he’s not a nightmare,” said Jig.

Wedge shrugged. Pulled out his .32.

“Wakey wakey, Jakey,” said Jig.

“You… you guys aren’t here to get me out?”

“Oh, we’re getting you out of the dream, all right,” said Jig. “And we’ll be right next to you when you wake up.”

And then Wedge shot Jig.

“What the fuck?!” the man cursed as Jig crumpled to the ground.

“She’s an early riser,” said Wedge. “And this is a wake-up call.”

Another shot. And then one more.

The islands melted into the hazy blue mist of the dreamlike skies.

 

 

Today’s three random prompt categories were, “Dreamcatchers,” “Jig and Wedge,” and “A flying island.”

I really like the Jig and Wedge characters from “This Little Light,” so I added them to the hat as their own prompt category. Same goes for the dreamcatcher idea, which appeared in “Jersey and the Devil.” Totally an inappropriate mix, but it made for a fun prompt. See you tomorrow, Reader!

– H.

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