Dreamed 1971/7/12, sketched years later, digitally tinted, by Chris Wayan
I'm riding a miniature train across the lawns of a city park, on the north shore of Lake Tahoe, near the Nevada border. The Sierra peaks around us are snowcapped, but down here by the lake, at only 2000 meters, it's a hot summer day. Sprinklers arc glassily over the verdant lawn. The miniature train track goes right through the spray and rainbows. Riding the toy train, on the seat across from me, are two members of a softball team that plays here. One is a girl I've seen on the Tahoe beaches. She's wearing her team cap--and nothing else. Her friend is a talking snake, a Naga. I wonder how he throws the ball? He too wears a baseball cap. A mild, playful character, he obviously adores her. Flirting and teasing, he yells "EEEEEEK" when the train carries them under the sprinklers. "I better go in where it's warm" he says, and crawls into her lap, between her thighs, nuzzles her crotch, teasing her lips apart. His baseball cap falls off as he squeezes inside her. She spreads her legs with a gasp and looks around, her face blushing red as a sunburn, sun-heated snake sliding into her still, cold little jets from the sprinkler trickling down her back and belly. Her friend turns around in utero, and slips his head out... "You're so nice and warm!" he says, and tickles her till she comes, laughing, and I wake.
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