I had a dream that I was walking through the hayfields, the shorn grass and packed earth firm beneath my feet. Suddenly, I floated up about the ground – as if something that had rooted me there had gone and let go. I could see the grass below me- a few feet a first, then higher. I tried to find something to latch onto to steady myself, to try and pull myself down. Nothing worked. I flailed wildly, but it was no use. My hands fell upon the hay set in their tall stacks, and the grass slid through my fingers like water.
I continued to float up. I saw trees but could not reach them. I tried to move myself in a purposeful direction, but it was no use. Soon the even the tree tops were below me. I could not control how fast I rose, or in which direction. I cried out to the hobbits working below. They did not heed me. They were busy with their harvest and just keep at their scythes. I disappeared behind some clouds then, and all went hazy and grey and shapeless. Beyond the clouds, I knew, was a great blue infinite space, one of infinite possibilities, not the least of which was death. Before I felt myself break through the clouds, I screamed, and woke up in a cold sweat.
Aunt Esme ran in and asked what happened. I told her it was just a dream. I told her I dreamed float up.
"A flying dream," she said. "How nice, a bit scary, though, I suppose."
She does not understand. This was the most terrifying dream I've ever had. I don't want to have a flying dream ever again.
Frodo
