In My Dreams

I close my book and set it on my nightstand. I’d spent the last 15 minutes rereading the same paragraph over and over. My mind was distracted from the events of the day. The argument with the stranger on the bus. Dropping my groceries all over the sidewalk after tripping over my two left feet. Then finally making it home to my sad eyed cat that I had completely forgotten to feed this morning.

I took off my reading glasses and rubbed my eyes. Work had left me exhausted and sore. A nice bath with a glass of wine sounded good, but I didn’t have the energy to leave my bed. Instead, I place my glasses in their case and turn off the lamp. My eyes begin to flutter quickly and reality fades.

The paintings on the wall are so vibrant. I hear the click of the heels I’m wearing as I move from one art piece to the next. I’m holding a glass of champagne, and the music in the background is calming. There are people everywhere. I can see snow falling out on the street outside the large bay window facing the street. I abandon looking at the artwork to look out the window. Sipping on my drink, I watch the cars go by. My lips curl into a smile admiring the Christmas decorations that covered downtown.

A figure enters my peripheral vision. He says, "This seems to be the best piece of artwork in this place." I turned toward him, as he motions to the street.

He continues, "Makes me want to get out of here."

Turning to me he asks, "So you want to get out of here?” I’m not shocked. He makes me feel calm. His black hair hangs in his face, his blue eyes beckon me.

I reply, "Yes."

I am flipping through a series of moments. I’m sitting in a shopping cart being pushed down the sidewalk. He’s pushing me, and we are laughing and yelling. His leather jacket is keeping me warm in the cool winter air. We’re walking down on a beach. It’s particularly calm weather considering the cold. He takes my hand, and we walk into an old theater. Leading me behind the stage, we enter a huge room where a bed sits on the floor. There is a beat-up dresser, desk full of well worn books, and rugs covering the ground. He’s telling me this is his room. He lives at the theater with a few other people. I look up to see large ceiling windows above the rafters. I love it instantly. I ask him if I can please stay here. He says, "I thought you’d never ask." He’s a gentlemen and sleeps in an old chair that sits close to the door.

I’m standing on the stage of the theater. My hair is up, and I’m wearing a dress. It sparkles, and I notice it’s a flapper dress. The mic in front of me looks like one from the 1920s. I start singing an old song. I can feel the band behind me. Someone on the keyboard, and another one on saxophone. A familiar voice joins me for the chorus. I turn to look at those beautiful blue eyes and dark hair. His hair still hangs in his face, but he is wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His tie is loose, and the top button of his shirt is undone. He’s so gorgeous. The band takes over as we reach a pause. His hand comes around to cup my chin, and soon his lips are pressed against mine.

My dream starts to fade in and out. I hear my alarm going off, and I squeeze my eyes shut. Trying hard to cling to the dream. Sighing, defeated, I open my eyes. Tears fall onto my pillow. I turn my face into the pillow, wiping them away. Sitting up, my cat starts to meow. I remove the covers, put on my slippers, and make my way to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee. A good slap back to reality.

As I put water into the back of the coffee pot, someone knocks on the door. Surprised, I set the pot down, and head for the front door. Unlocking the door, I open it to see blue eyes staring back at me. That beautiful black hair hanging just above those dazzling eyes. We stand there in shock for a moment until he says, "You don’t know me, but I’ve dreamt of you." He nervously slides his hand through his hair.

"I know how crazy that sounds, but I saw you yesterday going into your house, and I knew you. I’ve had so many wonderful dreams about you. I just, I just had to talk to you. To see you, to know you.”

Those eyes looked back up at me where they now cradled tears. "I just need to know you.”

He pressed both of his hands on either side of my door. Holding himself there, looking down at the ground. He’s breathing heavily. Noticeably scared and confused. I reach forward, and cup his face in my hands. I move toward him and kiss him. His arms wrap around me and we envelope each other. I break away, tears now streaming down face and say, "I’ve dreamt of you too. I’ve dreamt of you too.” He smiles at me and we hold each other for what seems like forever.