Luke felt like he was standing in an alpine postcard. He was at the top of the mountain, looking down at a near vertical drop. Something felt terribly wrong. Fear gripped his chest. He didn’t know how to ski.
Luke looked behind him. Officials and competitors stood there, waiting. There was a sound of three short beeps, then a long tone. The officials started yelling, “Go! Go! Go!”
Without thinking, Luke jumped. The wind whipped past his face. His heart lodged in his throat. It was exhilarating.
Halfway down, the mountain flattened out. Luke approached a rifle range. It was all oddly familiar. He pulled a rifle off his back. He aimed, exhaled, fired, and hit his goal of five targets.
As he turned to leave, a coach shouted encouragement. He was now skating on a long oval track. At the far end was the top of the mountain. Figure skaters performed in the centre of the oval. He noticed one particularly attractive young Russian woman. His only thought was to get her attention by winning his race.
As Luke neared the finish line, he was passed by a four-man bobsleigh team. His heart fell. He came so far to lose this close to the end. He dug deep and pushed hard for a strong finish. He was desperate for the pretty Russian woman to notice him.
The cheers of the crowd startled him. Luke sat up on his couch just in time to watch the four-man bobsleigh team celebrate their gold medal. Luke’s wife was beside him, watching the olympics on TV.
When she saw Luke stir, she smiled. “Did you have a good nap?”
Luke rubbed his eyes. “Oh, Natalya, I had the strangest dream.”