The Dream, Part 2

And so I drifted. I drifted until I did not know if it
was possible to drift any more. I do not know if time
existed, if I drifted for days, weeks, or years. I could
have drifted for decades and felt the same. I never
felt hunger or pain. I existed purely adrift. The waters
never moved beyond the small rippling wake behind
me as the boat and I moved through. There was never
anything to see beyond the horizon. It was as though
it were a world of pure water. The water was devoid
of fish or any creatures that I could see. When I grew
sick of watching the water I would watch the vast
uninterrupted sky. A gray that neither felt brooding
nor welcoming. It stared with the unblinking eye of
whatever gods claimed this world. After an unknowable
amount of time passed at last something came into view
from the horizon. It was an odd shape jutting from the
water. Once I was closer I was able to see that it was
the gnarled root of something that may have been a
tree. The boat did not stop. It continued along as if
there was a more important place to be.