frosted daydreams;
@twxjack
spring is for napping in meadows of buttercups and morning glories. summer is for sluggish afternoons cradled by hammocks in the shade. autumn is for cleansing the soul with the scent of fresh, fallen leaves on a nature trail. but for a season like winter -- or in this instance, a springtime month that had been hit by snowstorms -- napping in a tree isn’t the first activity that comes to mind. in fact, it might never come to mind at all.
unless your name is hercules.
even the strongest mortal on earth gets tired of delivering pizzas to rude, unappreciative customers all day. he was halfway to the apartments when he decided to take a quick nap, then finish the rest of the walk later. he climbs up the tree with ease, gets comfortable on a sturdy branch, pulls his winter cap over his eyes, and is out like a light. herc wonders what would happen if he accidentally took another two thousand year slumber. people would move him eventually, right? but to be on the safe side, he sets a timer on his phone for sixty minutes.
. . .
BEEP BEEP BEEP
he sleeps right through the blaring alarm. it’s only when the phone vibrates that he rolls over, just like he tosses in bed every morning. only, there’s no mattress to catch him; he rolls right off the branch. it’s a frightening sight: a sleeping man falling from the highest branches of a treetop, nosediving right into the ground. he hits the ground with a loud smack. a woman shrieks. a child cries. a man shouts to call an ambulance.
hercules yawns.
his eyes are still closed as his hand reaches out, halfheartedly slapping against the ground like he’s trying to turn off an alarm clock. he rolls over once more and now his other hand reaches out, this time slapping someone’s shoe. “mnnnh, just five more millennia...”