I’m moving down an empty two-lane road in south Georgia, as if being pushed slowly and deliberately along a track.
The air is calm and quiet, and I am alone.
Tall, straight pine trees set in neat, purposeful rows surround me as I make my way down the road.
The dark silhouettes of the trees line up and then separate as I pass by.
Behind the trees I can see the rich blue light of the dusk sky, a sign that it’s on the verge of nighttime.
I eventually come to a gentle stop, look to my right, and see a tiger crouched at the top of a gentle slope at the edge of the trees.
I’m eye level with the tiger. She looks at me with mild curiosity, but nothing more.
I then see she has something wedged between her two soft, yet strong paws: a vanilla ice cream cone.
She finishes looking at me, bends her head down slightly and licks the ice cream.
And then I wake up.
© Sarah Porwoll 2018