Sunlight glinted off Uncle Harry’s
sweat-covered forehead.  “Look at those apples over there,” he said, pointing.  “They’re the same color as your cheeks, Tommy.  A healthy red.”
        “Can we have some, Uncle Harry?” Tommy asked.
        “Go ahead, kids.  They’re yours for the taking.”
  
The apples were delicious.  Incredibly juicy, invigoratingly tasty.  And so pure.  Just like the rest of the place.  Tommy looked around at all the flowers in bloom, squirrels darting between the trees, birds winging by overhead, black and brown shapes set against the background of the clear blue sky.  And then there was, of course, the sun, spraying its life-giving light and warmth all over this scene.
        “It’s getting real hot now,” Uncle Harry said.  “Why don’t we go to the lake and take a swim?  Isn’t that just what we need?”
  
Uncle Harry, Tommy, Lisa and Jim
tossed off their clothes and dove into the crystal-clear water, shattering the reflection of the even blue expanse of sky into a myriad of glimmering fragments.
        The water was refreshingly cool.
        “Drink some,” Lisa said.  “It’s delicious.”
        Tommy and Jim followed their sister’s good advice and swallowed huge gulps of the fresh water.  It tasted wonderfully clean and pure, and—  
  
Tommy sat upright in bed, panting,
clammy with cold sweat.  The nightmare was over.  A few minutes later, while he was spooning up his nutritious breakfast syrup, he decided to tell his mother.
        “I had this terrible nightmare, Mom.”
        “Really?  Tell me about it.”
        “We were in this strange unknown world.  Uncle Harry and Jim and Lisa and me. We were out in the open, without any protective clothing or even oxygen masks.  The sunlight just beat down on us, and we inhaled the air without even thinking of what we were doing.”
        “My God!  What happened?”
        “We saw birds and squirrels, and didn’t even care about the possible contamination.  We took

some apples off a tree and ate them.”
        “Oh, Tommy!”  His mother sounded compassionate, genuinely worried, although it had only been a dream.
        “Then we took a swim in a nearby lake and even drank some of the water.”  Tommy shook his head; he simply couldn’t continue.
        His mother hugged him, patted him on the head.  “Don’t worry, Tommy.  It’s over.  You’re safely back in the real world now.”
        Tommy nodded.  There was no reason for concern, really.  He was ready to go to school now, and he’d do his best to forget the whole damn episode.
  
He put on the hermetically-sealed
suit with the oxygen mask, that would protect him against the merciless ultra-violet light, the poisoned atmosphere alive with lethal bacteria and chemicals, and any disease-ridden animals that might cross his path on his way to school.
        He passed through the airlock and went into the street, off and running, waving at the armed guards patrolling his neighborhood.  Soon he would be back among his friends, cavorting on the underground playground, attending basic survival training class, and generally having fun.
        Life wasn’t so bad.  There were some drawbacks, but nothing a kid bristling with energy and enthusiasm couldn’t live with.
        The terrible nightmare was already forgotten.
 
 
                         About The Author
  
        Frank Roger was born in 1957 in Ghent, Belgium.  His first story was published in 1975.  Since then, his stories have appeared in an increasing number of languages in all sorts of magazines (including Calliope), anthologies, and other venues, including short story collections.  To date, he has had more than 600 short stories published including a few short novels, in 24 languages.
        Apart from writing fiction, Frank produces collages and graphic works in the surrealist and satirical traditions. 
 
                                      Copyright © Frank Roger