I find myself drifting, weaving, carving down the billowing surface of a green copper cloud. My path leaves a streak of fresh, exposed metallic vapor that glitters like a vein of golden ore. Lightning arcs away from me, static charges rippling across the surface. I lie prone upon an unpowered windboard. Its wide delta wing provides resistance, support, control. I ride the floating mountain to its crumbling base, and descend through an atmosphere that seems to never end.
I fall into consciousness and lie still. I long for the wind, the pressure, and the heaven of eternal air.
(Submitted to DreamQuest 2007)