Drip, drip, drip.

The incessant, methodic drip from the leaky, rusted pipe was like music to Sharon. Her window sill was dappled with rain from the dark grey skies, the water causing the one leaky pipe in her home to slowly bleed tears.

Sharon yawned loudly, bringing her arms up above her head, a few vertebrae popping here or there. She settled back into the cocoon of comforters and her Tempur-Pedic matress, sighing the tired sigh of the overworked and the overstressed. She reached over and made sure to set her Blackberry to wake her up at seven the next morning. She did this so she could get her daily cup of coffee, as well as have time to grab a bagel and cream cheese before heading to her third meeting in just as many days. She plugged in her phone and placed it on her nightstand and laid her head back on the fluffy, cream-colored pillows, reviewing tomorrow’s charts and her lengthy speech about the market value of the new her employer’s new line, as opposed to the old on. She ran the speech and how it would go through her mind. She wondered if she would please her boss, she had already been told once she was on thin ice, and she loathed to be the one to crack it. Sharon tossed her dark, midnight black hair over her shoulder, tying it in a quick, messy bun. She checked her surroundings, her phone once more and then burrowed into her den of covers. She soon fell into the sleep of the restless, her subconscious slowly fading to black.

---

When Sharon awoke, she stretched her arms, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She extended her arms outwards, breathing a quiet yawn. She stepped out from her warm blankets and stumbled forward, her hands still out in front of her. Her outstretched hands clashed against something soft, damp and with the texture of what appeared to be fur. No, it wasn’t fur, she confirmed, she blinked her hazel eyes open and examined her surroundings. It was dark, damp and she could feel a humid tinge to the air about her. The air felt, tasted and smelled stale as if she had been thrust into an unopened room. Sharon looked around, scrambling for the lamp that would not be there. She flailed her left arm out, towards her nightstand. At least that was still there. She grabbed her half-charged Blackberry and flicked the screen on, illuminating the quiet cavern. She gasped in surprise as the large cave around her was illuminated. The flora and fauna of the humid cavern came to life, in shoots of purple, stems of green and petals of blue. The flourescent, glowing plant life gave off an enticing smell, begging to be picked and replanted, even put in an elegant vase. Sharon quickly dropped her phone, jumping back onto her bed. Surely, this was a dream and she was hallucinating. She dove under her covers and began to mutter to herself, “This is a dream, wake up! Wake up!”. Her passionate cries received no replies and defeated, she opened her eyes. This was real, there was no doubt about it. She could smell the stale air, taste the moist humidity, hear the quick, tinkle of water dripping into a pool. She sighed and reached toward the end of her bed, grabbing for her warm winter coat that she had so haphazardly flung on the coffee colored sheets the evening before.



She quickly buttoned her winter coat up, wrapping it around her flannel-covered legs and her small night-shirt. She slid her feet into her fuzzy, pink slippers that had, thankfully made the trip along with her bed and nightstand. She gave the cavern around her one last look, grabbed her Blackberry and strode forth, using the small screen to light her way. The moss and moist, stone floor threatened to betray her feet at any moment, so she walked carefully.



She continued to wind her way through the humid cavern, treading carefully. She looked around, the white light from her screen showing two paths in the cave. A fork in the road. Sharon glanced around for a moment, and chose to take the left path, through the cave.

She soon walked deep into the left tunnel, and the air began to grow frigid and icy. Sharon began to see her breath coming out in quick frosty puffs, and her teeth began to chatter. She continued to walk, forcing herself to move forward in the tunnel. She moved further down the cavernous cave and Sharon quickly came upon a wooden door. It was solid, appeared to be thick and gave off a wonderful smell, like a fantastic, rich mahogany. With another chatter of her teeth, Sharon pushed open the door and stepped into the light that fled into the dark cavern. Sharon cried out as her world exploded.
With a yell, she landed with a hearty thud, onto her coffee-colored comforters. She looked around, she was back in her room, with the leaky pipe, the rain battering the window outside. It really was just a dream. Sharon breathed a sigh of deep relief and scraped a hand across her forehead, wiping away a cold sweat. She laid her head back on her pillows, and with surprising ease, fell asleep.

Sharon awoke, extremely hot and sweaty. She blinked and looked around. Her bed began to teeter on the lip of a domed volcano, on a sandy island in the middle of a clear, blue ocean.

She ducked her head under her covers and began muttering to herself,

"It's only a dream."