OOMM:
(Hey, do you know when a door's not a door?)
Nita blinks and glances sideways at the dark-haired boy walking next to her. Their footsteps don't make any sound on the stone floor of the hallway; it might as well be carpeted.
The boy grins. (When it's a metaphor. Get it?)
". . . That's not how that joke is supposed to go," Nita objects.
(No, but my answer's more useful.)
She rolls her eyes, amused. The walls of the hallway are lined with doorways, plain stone frames with no doors in them. They all appear to lead to different places -- landscapes of fire, of water, of rock or ice or gigantic gears. Nita glances at them as they go past, but in the manner of dreams, they don't seem very remarkable. A very large lobster waves a claw at her from one doorway; she waves back politely.
"So I guess I'm dreaming," she comments.
(That seems like a good guess,) he agrees.
"Who're you?"
He looks at her sidelong, serious now. (I'm not who you think I am.)
Puzzled, she stops walking and turns to look at him. "Wait, hold still, let me look at you."
He shakes his head, striding forward. (It won't help.)
"Of course it won't if you don't stop moving," she says, annoyed, trying to catch up. She tries to grab his hand. "Why won't you stay with me?"
Her hand goes right through his black clothing. It burns. (Because you've got bigger fucking things to worry about than which boyfriend your subconscious is manifesting as!) he snaps, and then whirls around to face her.
MUCH BIGGER.
Nita screams.
Behind him -- it -- the doorways are going black one by one, like a shadowy tsunami channeled down a narrow inlet and coming right
towards
her
She wakes up to the sound of banging on her bedroom door and Rebecca's muffled voice. "Nita? You okay in there?"
It takes her a moment of swallowing to make sure her voice is going to be reasonably steady. "Sorry, Bec. Bad dream."
Now she just has to figure out exactly what it's trying to tell her.
As soon as her heart stops pounding.
Nita blinks and glances sideways at the dark-haired boy walking next to her. Their footsteps don't make any sound on the stone floor of the hallway; it might as well be carpeted.
The boy grins. (When it's a metaphor. Get it?)
". . . That's not how that joke is supposed to go," Nita objects.
(No, but my answer's more useful.)
She rolls her eyes, amused. The walls of the hallway are lined with doorways, plain stone frames with no doors in them. They all appear to lead to different places -- landscapes of fire, of water, of rock or ice or gigantic gears. Nita glances at them as they go past, but in the manner of dreams, they don't seem very remarkable. A very large lobster waves a claw at her from one doorway; she waves back politely.
"So I guess I'm dreaming," she comments.
(That seems like a good guess,) he agrees.
"Who're you?"
He looks at her sidelong, serious now. (I'm not who you think I am.)
Puzzled, she stops walking and turns to look at him. "Wait, hold still, let me look at you."
He shakes his head, striding forward. (It won't help.)
"Of course it won't if you don't stop moving," she says, annoyed, trying to catch up. She tries to grab his hand. "Why won't you stay with me?"
Her hand goes right through his black clothing. It burns. (Because you've got bigger fucking things to worry about than which boyfriend your subconscious is manifesting as!) he snaps, and then whirls around to face her.
MUCH BIGGER.
Nita screams.
Behind him -- it -- the doorways are going black one by one, like a shadowy tsunami channeled down a narrow inlet and coming right
towards
her
She wakes up to the sound of banging on her bedroom door and Rebecca's muffled voice. "Nita? You okay in there?"
It takes her a moment of swallowing to make sure her voice is going to be reasonably steady. "Sorry, Bec. Bad dream."
Now she just has to figure out exactly what it's trying to tell her.
As soon as her heart stops pounding.