I've been having a lot of dreams lately. Surprisingly vivid dreams. But not scary. Not the kind of dreams I had when Mom died. These dreams are... Special. Every night when I go to bed I hope I'll have another one.
In the dream there's this girl. It's always the same girl. When I wake up in the morning it's hard to remember her face, but I know she's a redhead and she's just... beautiful. I find myself thinking about her during the day and my heart skips a beat. It's ridiculous; she's not even real. But I can't help thinking of her. I guess it's a way for me to escape from how things are here.
I head up to bed, and as I drift off I find my thoughts turning back to her. I know her name in the dreams, but when I'm awake I forget. Perhaps tonight will be different...
*
I know at once that I'm dreaming. It's the weird thing about these dreams; I know they aren't real, but at the same time it feels absolutely concrete.
So, I was thinking. It’s such a nice warm day and all that. Do-do you wanna go on a picnic with me?
( ... )
When she smiles it brightens up her face. It brightens up everything around me. If I were a total sap, which yeah I am, I’d say the world stops spinning for a moment and all that’s left is her and me. The world of course keeps spinning, which it would or we’d all fall off. Okay, so not the point
( ... )
She's invited me over to her place! I can't believe it. What's going on? Just enjoy it, I tell myself. This is a dream. I have so few opportunities to talk to pretty girls in real life, so I should make the most of this.
"Y-your place sounds, um, great," I said, smiling at her shyly. "I-I make quite good sandwiches. My dad always said so." About the only nice thing my father ever did say about me, but never mind. I don't need to think about him here, and that thought cheers me up immeasurably.
Then, somehow, we're walking along the street, and she's holding my hand. Oh, Goddess. This is just too perfect. I wonder if she can feel my heartbeat from next to me. It certainly seems to be beating loudly enough.
We walk across the threshold into her house. It seems somehow familiar, like I have been here before. I hesitate, not knowing whether to walk straight to the kitchen or to go into the living room.
Yay! My place it is! Okay, much of the calming down here, Wills. You’re not some kinda school girl with a huge crush. Yeah, okay, I guess I am at the moment. But come on, who wouldn’t be the girl of your dreams agrees to come home with you. When your parents are of the not there. Not that they’re ever there, but hey, not the point. And we’re both adults so there
( ... )
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In the dream there's this girl. It's always the same girl. When I wake up in the morning it's hard to remember her face, but I know she's a redhead and she's just... beautiful. I find myself thinking about her during the day and my heart skips a beat. It's ridiculous; she's not even real. But I can't help thinking of her. I guess it's a way for me to escape from how things are here.
I head up to bed, and as I drift off I find my thoughts turning back to her. I know her name in the dreams, but when I'm awake I forget. Perhaps tonight will be different...
*
I know at once that I'm dreaming. It's the weird thing about these dreams; I know they aren't real, but at the same time it feels absolutely concrete.
So, I was thinking. It’s such a nice warm day and all that. Do-do you wanna go on a picnic with me? ( ... )
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"Y-your place sounds, um, great," I said, smiling at her shyly. "I-I make quite good sandwiches. My dad always said so." About the only nice thing my father ever did say about me, but never mind. I don't need to think about him here, and that thought cheers me up immeasurably.
Then, somehow, we're walking along the street, and she's holding my hand. Oh, Goddess. This is just too perfect. I wonder if she can feel my heartbeat from next to me. It certainly seems to be beating loudly enough.
We walk across the threshold into her house. It seems somehow familiar, like I have been here before. I hesitate, not knowing whether to walk straight to the kitchen or to go into the living room.
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