Page 15 of Not Your Ordinary Shifter

Wet Dreams

BRONWYN JUDDE

Chapter

One

The last thing I remembered was an explosion of feathers flying through the passenger side window of the car my husband was driving to the lawyer’s office. I instinctively caught it in my hands as the car veered wildly into the oncoming traffic.

The next thing I knew, I was sitting on a beautiful beach, surrounded by azure waters and silver sand. I was holding a large bird. It was quite calm, looking at the sea in front of us.

It was a big seagull, and it slowly turned to look at me. Its hooked bill seemed non-threatening, its eyes unconcerned.

“Where am I?” I asked it, not expecting an answer.

The gull looked back at the azure water. “I don’t know. This was your dream, apparently.” Its voice was squawky, but quite distinct. “Have you often dreamed about beaches?”

Hmmm. I had often dreamed of beaches and… gorgeous men who…

I dragged my mind back to the car ride and remembered... almost nothing. Just the shock of the bird flying through my open window, automatically grabbing it, and seeing our car swerving into oncoming traffic. Remembering that, I unclaspedmy hands from around the big bird, and he hopped onto the sand next to me.

Looking around at the beach and the sea, it looked almost... too perfect? It was like one of those Thomas Kinkaid paintings where the colors are a little too intense. Then, I remembered I had probably just been in a car accident and wondered that I didn’t seem to be in any pain. Oh! And where was my husband? I stood up and looked around, but the seagull and I were quite alone on the beach.

I brushed the sand off of my bottom. “I wonder where my husband is?” I said.

“He probably had a very different idea of what the afterlife is like,” said the gull. “Anyway, he probably didn’t dream about beaches.”

The bird was right. My husband and I had very different ideas about most things. But, ‘afterlife?’ That meant... I was dead, right?

“So, you’re a seagull, correct? Some sort of magic seagull who can talk?” I asked my companion.

“It’s not so much magical that I can talk as it is more magical that you can understand me,” said the gull. “I’m a herring gull, actually.”

“I don’t understand. Am I really dead?”

Somehow, I didn’t expect the afterlife to look like this! I kept looking around. It was a bit eerie, as there was no sign of human habitation. Maybe we were in the Maldives? I’d always wanted to go there, but now I wasn’t so sure.

The scene was flooded with sunshine that caught the foamy tips of the small waves breaking on the beach, but there didn’t seem to be an actual sun. It was warm, but not hot. Some palm trees lined the rear of the beach, but beyond them, there was just more sand – silver sand that glistened as far as the eye could see.

The seagull continued to gaze out at the water. “Well, yeah. You’re dead. For that matter, so am I, but that doesn’t really matter. What happened was, you died when your car hit another car head-on, and in the minutes just before it happened, or at some other point in your life, you were dreaming about going to a beach where you could relax and not have to do whatever you were going to do.”

“Butyouflew in my window and... caused the wreck!”

“Cause and effect are subjective. Maybe it was just fate.” The seagull sounded bored. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You’re here now. Living the dream.” It yawned.

“But will we have to stay here forever?”

Shit! Why did I have to be dreaming about something so... boring? I mean, it was pretty, but there didn’t seem to be any people around; the seagull was nice enough, but he was a bird. There should have been a handsome man, not a seagull, for company. At least, that was what my best dreams always featured. And why hadn’t I been dreaming of Paris? I’d always wanted to go there, but now that looked to be out of the question.

The seagull spoke up again. “As I understand it, you can’t change the original location you dreamed of, but you can add to it, or even leave it for another you’ve always desired. But, be careful what you wish for.” The gull walked down to the water and put one webbed foot in it. He followed it with the other foot, then stood there, gazing out at the waves like an old sea captain.

“Like, can I wish for my husband to join me?”

I had no idea why I said this. My husband and I had been on our way to sign our divorce papers when the feather-bomb detonated. I didn’texactlyhate him, but still, I didn’t really want him here with me if there was anyone else available.

“No. It has to be something you conjure up with your imagination. Frankly, you imagining this beach doesn’t give me much confidence. It’s pretty, but rather boring,” said the bird.

I was insulted but determined to think of something wonderful to add to this... dream? Afterlife?... Whatever it was. A man? Should I wish for a man who wouldn’t or couldn’t be my husband?

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