Apple

The sky is clear, as if nothing separates you from the stars but the blackness of the crisp night. The stars twinkle on without rest, dancing out their timeless harmony. You're not sure how, you're not sure why, but you are sure that you're an apple, gently floating on the whim of a placid lake. The constant tension between gravity and buoyancy bobbing you tirelessly, one way and then the other, as a mother is apt to rock her child. Surely, the lake does not even know that you are an apple, nor even of your presence. Yet, right now you can't help but muse, while it holds you aloft and shares you with the night, that perhaps it does know you, has always known you.
Although familiar, you can't remember which lake this could be. As you try to place it, your own history begins to worry you. You're not sure, but it seems only reasonable that you haven't always been an apple floating under a starry sky. There must've been something before now. Still, nothing comes to mind, nothing but a feeling that you should be able to remember how you got there. As you begin to wonder what sort of memories an apple should have in the first place a loud buzz erupts and penetrates the still air, bringing chaos to your once peaceful setting. This otherworldly screech seems to come from everywhere at once as you seek out it's source. Trying to get a glimpse of the distant shore, you tumble. You tumble and fall, feeling weightless as your bearings get lost in the tumult.
Wondering what could possibly be happening, a painful thud sparks your memory as your eyes spring open. You lie still on the floor with your head throbbing as the vision of a starry night sky and a lake of endless calm flutter towards the back of your mind. You can't bring yourself to get up and silence the insistent cry of your alarm clock, for fear that anything more could make you lose track of that most precious moment, that time spent feeling the tension of the universe play out on a lake in gentle harmony. Nevertheless, your memory of that feeling does fade and grow dim. The screech of the alarm grows more persistent. Eventually you bring yourself to reach up and angrily smack snooze, as if the clock were to blame. Although faint, you can't help but dwell on that feeling of infinite peace as you lie still on the floor. Perhaps one day, you tell yourself, you'll get another chance to float on that lake under the dancing stars. However, you think that next time you'll try not to ask how you got there.