Sweven

I decided to start flexing some dream muscles by becoming a dream Olympian just for funsies and to work at dream intent. I'm not typically an Olympics watcher but there were so many reality checkable moments and memes from these that I wish I'd thought to dream Olympian along with them instead of after.

At the start of the week I shall select a random Olympic sport. I will fix my dream intent on being a competitor in that sport for the rest of the week. I have the opportunities to win the following awards:
GOLD- I compete in-dream in an Olympics as an athlete in the chosen sport
SILVER - I engage in-dream in the chosen sport but outside of the Olympics
BRONZE - I see or experience the sport in dream but am not a competitor

Aug 11th - 17th The almighty Wheel of Names has deemed Figure Skating as the Olympic sport.
0 medals this week.
Nearly a bronze, I went to watch Olympics with a class but they actually were watching Dune.
And early this morning (the 18th and a day too late) I lucidly tried skating in a dream.

Aug 18th-24th The almighty Wheel of Names has deemed Sailing as the Olympic sport.

-lights the Dream Olympic torch-

Litterfall
Bedroom carpet is oak leaves. Beneath slithers a world of worms. Some, various shapes of pasta. Some, elongated leeches, seeking. Others bulge blue with clitellums of slime and sundew spines. I collect. Inspect. Retrospect.

Dance On
They dance clockwise, two lines of humans hopping and whirling to haunted voices. I long to be part of the pomp. I've neither dress nor dance steps to match. I step in, none the less, stomping, shimmying, and spinning with fierce abandon. I disrupt the flow, I know, but care not. Others flutter to fringes. I dance on until the final mingled note of the last song.

Dog Day
A dog drowns, dragged under by the waves and wrath of a wild river. Aside, someone yells, "We can just refilm the dog scenes without the dog." Film crew falls back to their efforts. The rest lament the lost as the show goes on.

Re Risen
A home to the four footed, the six footed, and the feathered, has fallen. There is no sympathy for the 'soul-less' as the true soul-less step sightlessly around. Alone, I right the left, and yell, "Re-root! Re-rise!" After a tiny eternal time, roots grip ground. It stands, though at a one o'clock lean. It is re-risen!