Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

time.”
    “Yeah. Bypassing all that stuff,” I said, lying back down on the couch. Even though it was a dream, and I knew it was a dream, my stomach started to tighten at what was to come. “So sit back and watch the show. What do I do now, Barbara?”
    “Look around you. Examine your surroundings. Tell us what you see, what you feel.”
    “I see mud. I feel mud. I am the mud.”
    “There has to be more to her past life than mud, surely,” Terri said, munching on popcorn.
    My stomach turned over. It is coming. He is coming. I felt it, felt the horror just on the edges of my consciousness.
    “Are there any buildings or other structures around to give you an idea of what year you are reliving?” Barbara asked.
    “Um . . . nothing on the left side other than forest. I seem to be standing on a dirt path of some sort. Let me walk to the top of this little hill—oh! Wow! There’s a town down below. And it looks like there’s a castle way up on a tall cliff in the distance. Lots of tiny people are running around in some fields outside of the town. Cool! It’s like a medieval village or something. Think I’ll go down to say hi.”
    “Excellent,” Barbara said. “Now, tell me, how do you feel?”
    Sick. Scared. Terrified .
    “Well,” my voice said, not reflecting any of the dream emotions, “kind of hungry. No, really hungry. Kind of an intense hunger throbbing inside me. Oh, great, I’m a peasant, aren’t I? I’m a poor starving peasant who stands around in mud. Lovely.”
    “We are not here to make judgments on our past selves,” Barbara said primly.
    “Geesh, Cora,” Patsy said, sitting on my feet. “Terri turned out to be Cleopatra’s personal maid, and I was one of Caesar’s concubines. You’re letting down the team, babe. The least you could do is be a medieval princess in a big pointy hat or something.”
    I couldn’t . . . because of him .
    Loathing rippled through me as my voice continued. “I have shoes on. Peasants didn’t wear shoes, did they?”
    “Some did, I’m sure,” Terri said, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth.
    “Can you walk to the town?” Barbara asked. “Perhaps we can find out who you are if we know where you are.”
    “Yeah. I’m going down the hill now.”
    A low rumble from behind me had me clutching the cushions of the couch. “Hey, watch where you’re—Oh my god. Oh my god! Omigod! ”
    “What? What’s happened?” Barbara asked, sounding suddenly worried.
    She should.
    “A woman with an ox cart just ran me over.”
    “What?” Patsy shrieked.
    “She ran me over. Her oxen were running amok or something. They just came barreling down the hill behind me and ran right over the top of me. Holy Swiss on rye! Now the oxen are trampling me, and the lady in the cart is screaming and—Jehosophat! My head just came off! It just came right off! Ack!”
    I knew in my dream state that Terri sat staring at me, her eyes huge, a handful of popcorn frozen just beyond her mouth as she gawked at the words that came unbidden from my mouth.
    If only she knew.
    “Oh, my. I don’t—I’ve never had anyone die during a regression,” Barbara said, sounding stressed. “I’m not quite sure how to proceed.”
    “You’re . . . decapitated?” Patsy asked. “Are you sure?”
    “I’m sure, Pats. My head is separated from my body, which is covered in ox hoofprints. A wheel went over my neck, I think. It . . . Urgh. That’s just really gross. Why the hell do I get the reincarnations where I’m killed by two oxen and a cart? Why can’t I be Cleopatra’s concubine?”
    “Personal maid, not concubine,” Terri corrected, stuffing the popcorn into her mouth and chewing frantically. “Are you absolutely certain you’re dead? Maybe it looks worse than it is.”
    Oh, it was going to get much, much worse, the dream part of my mind said.
    Goose bumps rose on my arms.
    “My head is three feet away from my body. I think that’s a pretty good indicator of death. Good god! Now what’s she doing?”
    “The ox?” Patsy asked.
    “No, the driver. She’s not doing what I think she’s doing, is she?”
    “I don’t know,” Terri said, setting down the popcorn so she could scoot closer to me.
    “This is very unusual,” Barbara muttered to herself.
    “What’s the lady doing?” Patsy said, prodding my knee.
    “She’s trying to stick my head back onto my body. Lady, that’s not going to do any good. No, you can’t tie it on, either. Ha. Told you so. Oh,