Snorting laughter sounded from Lucy. “Totally worth the week of scrubbing floors.”
Smiling, I switched off the bedside lamp. Darkness flooded the room. Sleep claimed me instantly, and there I was, in my dream world. It had taken a few years for me to realize how unusual it was to have the exact same dream – every week – for as long as I could remember.
Dream-me started her adventure in an immense forest. Ancient gnarled trees and dense overgrown green foliage spanned as far as the eye could see.
As usual, I found myself wandering aimlessly through the peaceful expanse. Waiting for them to find me. The woman arrived first, stepping out of the vast tree-line to stand before me. She was beautiful – tall, with straight black hair that hung almost to her waist. She looked to be in her early thirties, but her eyes held the weight from many more years.
She radiated intoxicating warmth. Generally we stood there, simply staring. I soaked up the feeling for as long as I could, and, just as I was expecting her to move on, something changed. A sense of urgency filtered through the forest. Clutching my hand, she pulled me closer. Leaning in, she spoke.
“We love you.” Unlike the usual dream fuzziness, the words were soft but clear. “Find the blue stone.”
Then she was gone.
Reaching out, I fought to keep the warmth, but my hands clutched empty air. Sorrow flooded through me. I’d lost something vital.
At that point, a distraction stepped through the forest – which had turned strangely misty – capturing my full attention. My stupid heart galloped away in my chest.
He isn’t real, I repeated over and over.
He was astonishingly perfect, and, unlike the woman, had only started appearing a few years ago. I had long reached the conclusion that he was too amazing to exist anywhere but in dreamland. Broad-shouldered and tall – well, more like giant – he had messy dark hair that fell around sculpted features. My favorite part – his eyes. Surrounded by thick sooty lashes they were a deep rich brown. When they focused on me everything else faded away.
We stared, the moment powerful. Energy hummed in the short distance between us. I wanted to move even closer, but something held me back. His lips turned up in a quizzical smile, and he was the one to close the distance. His large hands engulfed my face on either side.
Leaning down from his great height, he rested his forehead against mine. We fit together in that moment, two puzzle pieces that until that point had been clattering around in an empty box. And then he was gone. The emotions in my dream world were so intense; the sense of loss was sharp and biting. Eventually, as always, the world faded and the darkness of a dreamless sleep consumed me.
Much too early the next morning I found myself jarred awake. Glancing over to the small side window, I saw heavy sunlight streaming through. I had slept long and soundly for the rest of the night. In typical dream murkiness, the details were already fading, but, lying back, I contemplated the latest addition from last night – the woman had spoken to me. And in the bright clarity of morning, one detail stood out: she had the same accent as the alley man. Excellent! One more thing to add to my list of strange.
My first attempt at rolling out of bed was pain-filled. I’d forgotten about my ribs. Lifting my flannel shirt, I grimaced. Still an ugly dark purple, although some spots had yellowed. I must admit that I take my ability to heal in a quick manner for granted, but this injury was worse than usual. With a deep breath for courage, I sat up and pulled myself out of bed.
Hobbling down the hall, I pushed my way through the girls in the bathroom to find a spare sink to brush my teeth. No way was I waiting in the shower line this morning; I had a man to find. I took a few minutes to re-braid my hair, needing it off my face.
Back in my room I grabbed some clean clothes from my drawers. The current world crisis doesn’t allow for a high-fashion life. Which is fine by me. I like comfortable. Tattered slim-fit blue jeans, low cut enough to sit below my bruises, and a simple white t-shirt.
Dragging on battered black boots and grabbing my hooded dark-gray coat, I left the room. The weather was reasonably mild this time of year, but with the cold season around the corner the wind could cut right through.