Dreamt of letting a bunch of party-goers load themselves onto my pirate raft. They planned on earning their passage. Most of them were women in bikinis and I thought to myself, “As long as they do the work, they can wear whatever they want.”
A young boy of about 10-years of age swims along after the raft. He wanted to join my crew. Based on the weakness of his doggy-paddle, I could tell he was not a strong swimmer. I grab him by the scruff of the neck and set him down in my lap. I was, at that time, floating on my back in the water, as if I were sitting in a floating lounger, but there was no lounger.
“I’m going to have to give you swimming lessons, kid,” I tell him. “There’s no way you’re going to escape the bull shark feeding frenzies swimming like that!”
The boy jumps off my lap and tries to swim under the raft, just to prove he can. But even though he kicks furiously, his head never goes all the way under the water.