PinkCulture

The sweet scent of flowers invades my nostrils, while a light breeze caresses my body.  I reflexively turn the other way, my hand flailing around my waist futilely seeking my blanket.  Unable to find it, I gradually wake up, only to realize that I am not on my bed, nor in my room or in my house… instead, I am lying in a patch of grass in what looks to be a small clearing in a forest.  Wait…  WHERE THE HELL ARE MY CLOTHES????

I jump to my feet in panic and look left and right trying to figure out what is happening.  My mind can’t process the situation, but after a few minutes the panic recedes and I start thinking somewhat rationally again.  I check myself for any injuries or bugs crawling on me and I am relieved when I find none.  Then my brain processes what my eyes see and I freeze.  I once again start checking my body slowly, running my hands over it inch by inch.  My beer belly is gone, the white hairs on my chest are now black and my body while not exactly rippling has defined muscle lines.  
Yeah, nice dream, I thought.  I haven’t looked or felt so good since I was 20.
Then reality slaps me again.  A memory surfaces from the depth of my mind from a researcher’s interview on tv; you can’t smell something in your dreams, you just identify the scent that you should be smelling.  I close my eyes and take a deep breath.  I smell the grass, the little violet flowers, the scent of the tree resin carried by the wind… fuck!...  Toto, we are not in Kansas anymore…

Table of Second chance - Diary of a transmigrator

Table of contents

Volume 1