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different temperatures and textures. Then he could feel nothing at all. There was only a peaceful ambience. Similar to when he rested at night, only much deeper, as if his soul had slipped away for a moment.
    Something changed.
    When he opened his eyes again, he could see nothing but silver and blue. He started to take a breath, but discovered his mouth filling with a salty fluid. His face was now under water and he couldn’t breathe. The soft, rounded stones that were supporting his body in the shallow water of the riverbank were no longer there. He felt himself sinking.
    He kicked his powerful legs and moved his arms frantically, trying to swim. His face broke the surface and he quickly inhaled, sucking in some of the briny water. He continued to struggle, and managed to get another breath.
    This wasn’t at all what he thought would happen. He thought that he would have a dream. No Kafkian ever slept deeply enough to dream. Maybe this was a nightmare, but it sure didn’t feel like one. It was way too physical.
    His lungs started to ache for oxygen and he could feel panic sweepthrough his body. He tried to calm himself, but that was almost impossible while drowning.
    On his third attempt to breathe, he missed the surface and swallowed another pint of salt water. He was unable even to choke.
    This was no nightmare. He was going to die.

The beach wasn’t very crowded, and Nola was glad of it. No one would disturb her daydreaming.
    She opened her sketch pad and started drawing her favorite subjects. She drew the young man she had seen so many times in her dreams, Mich. The one she made up from her imagination. She had tried so hard and waited so long to find someone to meet her ideals of what a man should be, but she never found him. So in desperation she decided she could have anyone she wanted, even though he could exist only in her mind.
    Naturally she crafted him well. He was handsome and muscular with long, thick, black hair and grass-green eyes. He was a prince (of course) and enjoyed riding Heat, Spirit’s white counterpart. He loved music. He had a pet dragon that he played with in much the same way she played with her cat. In fact, maybe Snort was based on Kudo, making him more of a basilisk. Animals could be ugly or bad tempered and still be loved. If only that were the case with people! In the dream land Mich loved her unconditionally, but to make him seem more real, she gave him human flaws.
    Sometimes he had a corny sense of humor, and he tended to be overly dramatic when he was bored or bothered. He was inexperienced in certain things like grim adventure or romantic love, sotended to make foolish mistakes that got him into trouble on either front. Just like most men, he enjoyed a good white lie. But he would never lie to deceive or hurt her. For example, he might tell her she looked lovely, when she knew she did not. To Nola, he was just perfect, including his imperfections. It didn’t matter that he lived only in her mind. The way she looked at it, it just made her love and long for him more each day. Deep down, she knew he wasn’t real, but she didn’t care. To think of him made her happy, and why not be happy if she could be?
    She also drew a picture of her best friend, Esprit. His eyes were the same shade as Mich’s. Nola could read his thoughts and emotions as well as he could read hers. She would often have imaginary conversations with him. She knew that it was silly do this sort of thing, but she didn’t care. Her life had gotten so hard to live that this piece of fantasy was the only thing that helped her face reality. There were many other fantastic people and places she dreamed of, but Spirit and Mich were the first and they entered her mind most often.
    She finished the picture in her usual way, by drawing a little cross in the bottom right corner. Each of its four arms were equal in length with arrow-shaped ends. She had made up the cross one day to symbolize her faith in God and the