"Mehhhh."
All of a sudden, the writer woke up. He fell asleep again on top of his office table.
"Gabrielle!"
He almost shouted with joy as he recognized the long time friend that was imitating the sound of a sheep that woke him up.
"Yes, it's me! Wake up and you are finally completing the Round Two of your series."
His friend told him, but swiftly his surroundings changed before he could ever raise a question.
The writer found himself in between a thousand, no, a million or innumerable mixture of sheeps and goats.
"Where am I?"
With rounded eyes, he asked himself. He was alone, in his usual white shirt and pants. There was nothing else he could see around him but sheeps and goats of similar sizes. Sheeps were white as snow in its best. The goats were grey or black? He blinked twice to see better but nothing changed. He could not truly figure them out.
Above them was a clear blue sky where clouds were whiter on one side and the other half cloudy.
"What is happening?"
The animals were scattered everywhere, almost bumping each other. Fortunately, they gave him a space, enough for him to realize he was stepping on a green grass earth.
A loud sound like a siren fills the air. He turned around to check where it was coming from. There it was on his left side. Far away. Too far away. He could not move from where he was standing.
"What is that?"
Another question he asked himself.
Kilometers away he could see a big round, actually oval shaped drum? Or was it a container? But very tall, high and big enough to be noticed from afar.
"What is that? A spaceship?"
He planted the question while trying his best to see the shape better.
"Mehhhh."
A sheep beside him seemed to understand and responded to him.
Whatever it was, a big door right in front where the writer could see it was opened. It was slowly going down from the top till it reached the floor and stood like a gangway.
Slowly, something was happening to the spaceship located on the cloudy side of the sky. He saw some animals getting into the spaceship. The goats!
They must be the goats since there wasn't any other color like the sheep's brilliant whites he could see.
He smiled to himself as he realized that the spaceship has the shape of the ball used in an american football game. Of all shapes, why that? He could only wonder why.
Not too long, the goats seemed to be moving fast, incredibly, hopping themselves inside the spaceshape or spaceship. While the sheeps were moving themselves to the other half to the clearer sky.
Still the writer could not move a bit. Not a little bit. He was pasted on the ground. He bent his head upward only to realize he was exactly in the middle line of the divided sky.
As he put his attention back around him, he found himself in the middle of the sheeps. No more goats. The sheeps have spaces between themselves and enjoy the grass.
He searched for the spaceship, but it was gone. No more goats and no more cloudy sky.
"Mehhhh!"
All the sheeps shortly gave out their sounds as if joyfully celebrating, loud enough for the writer to come back to his senses and grasp he was again dreaming.
By the time he opened his eyes, Gabrielle was at his back leaving his room office and closing the door.
"Gabrielle, wait!"
He jumped to catch him, but when he opened the door, he was gone. Outside were just tables and a pool of other writers. So he stepped back to his table and there his pile of papers has a title already. Harvested 2. And most of all, the pen pointed at 2.
He sighed deeply and felt relief.
"Thank you Lord!"
