…from the case files of Detective Pagasmo…

(Continues from News, Clues, and Howitzers)

As my tired body gave itself up to sleep, a snatch of an old nursery rhyme permeated my thoughts:

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I give Gaia my soul to keep.
When sun’s rays light up her earth,
I pray Gaia keeps my berth.
With you always, I choose to lie,
carry me Gaia to the sky.

And it made me smile as the earth rolled over, under and around me. Her dirt caressed my face like a thousand hands carrying me to where I had to go. But my sleep wasn’t dreamless. As my body passed between the border of the mundane city where I lived and worked and crossed into what I called ‘Magic Town,’ something deep inside me tingled. I didn’t have magic, so this wasn’t a magical organ waking up.

I wasn’t going to emerge from the earth with the sudden ability to spell cast. Though psychometry would be useful in my line work, I wasn’t going to sprout the ability. No, likely I felt the wards keeping the normals out and the magical folks in. And it messed with my dreams.

My mind became taffy-like and stretched as a force pulled on it. Straining to keep body and mind together, I  fought an invisible foe. But I had nothing to throw at it.  Tension built and the dark vault of my dreams shot through with meteors.

Each one was a memory. I didn’t want to see any of them. My night had been bad enough. I didn’t need a highlight reel exposing my past mistakes. But whatever had grabbed me had other ideas and they included a look back at how I’d ended up here.  Like I needed a reminder I was homeless and unemployed…

It wasn’t Gaia’s fault I’d gotten sacked. One too many reports I’d penned were fuzzy on certain details and missing receipts for transportation. Why fly when Gaia can get me there? The same went for rentals. I’d done the government a service, but they didn’t see it my way.  Accounting kept raising red flags until the Special Agent In Charge had to let me go.

The sky in my dream flashed and across it an image appeared:

It was a variation on the same theme I’d been seeing all night confirming magic was involved. It likely had been from the start, and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I was in the kind of trouble which would require more than wits and degrees to escape. I would need help for this and I had no real allies in the magical community.

Before I could get too mired in the minutiae, the dream broke apart. The backlash sprung my consciousness free, and I cartwheeled until another force latched on. Capturing me, it sucked my mind into a blinding void and then spat me out.

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For the Incredible Blogger Marathon Challenge #08, join me in it. It’s 10 challenges, and you can do them whenever.

More Detective Pagasmo stories: The Boxes Are Doors, Descending into Trouble, Epistemology, Novitiate, Lulled by Rhymes, News, Clues and Howitzers, Mixed Media, No Truth in Quotes, Haiku Hunt, Random Risks, Freeze Frame, The Mark of Destiny, Detective Pagasmo in Playing Dead, Detective Pagasmo.