Her head was killing her. And her butt was wet.
Surely, a dream shouldn't hurt this bad?
Medea opened her eyes and for a second she couldn't see a thing. Then a spark flitted from her left before hovering on her right. It was a tiny figure with wings fluttering behind its body. "That's gonna leave a mark."
Another face popped out at her left. Medea tried to focus her eyes on the person, from the blurry shape of him, it was a guy. A strangely familiar guy. "Great," she slurred, "I'm saved by Peter Pan and Tinkerbell."
Copyright © 2013 by D.F. Jules
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