The Dryad

John closed his eyes, and drifted into slumber. The tendrils of fatigue pulling him into the darkness of the night. As he slips away, his mind begins to wander. He begins to dream.

* * *

John opened his eyes to find himself in a magnificent garden. Verdant blades of grass caress his bare feet. Large, expansive myrtles provided shade from the sun. Patches of blue veronica and perennial sage are nestled at the edge of the lawn. He can hear the chirping of blue jays above. It is so serene. He began to perambulate through the garden. Time did not matter here. All that mattered was that he enjoyed himself.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her, and was she gorgeous. She was so enticing, though not due to the fact that she wore next to nothing. Her skin was a bright green, that of a young flower stalk. Her hair, curly green locks, the color of evergreen pines, cascaded down her back, and nearly to the ground. She was clothed only with brown oak fastenings that secured a loincloth, and that covered her breasts.

She turned to him, and smiled. She laughed, beckoning to him, and began to scurry away.

“Wait!” John called after her, jogging to catch up.

He found her waiting for him in the boughs of a large cedar. She wagged her finger, inviting him closer. As he reached her, she brought her hand down his arm. John shivered with pleasure.

* * *

John bolted straight up as his alarm clock blared it's terrible tune.

“Come on... Really?” He groaned. “It was just getting good!