She was broken. Beautiful, but
broken. Nobody noticed.
He was magical. Shabby, but magical. Nobody cared.
They met me in the least likely place. They met in a dream. In a large, furnished room with a king-sized
bed at the center, where they had both opened their eyes to find themselves lying next to each
other, wearing nothing but the clothes they had slept in.
Neither of them panicked. Because they were aware that it was a dream. A dream where whatever
happened couldn’t affect their reality.
They shared multiple eternities in that dream.
In the first eternity, they remained in bed, staring at each other. Never moving closer, but never moving away, either. And never make a sound.
The second eternity, they spent rationalizing their situation.
“I think we’re dead,” she said.
He smiled., “Really? I was hoping maybe a coma or a Saturday sleeping in or something.”
She shook her head the side of her face brushing her pillow back and forth. ” I don’t sleep in on Saturdays. Or any day. And we’re too aware of this to be a coma. Coma means brain damage.”
He snuggled deeper into the mattress thoughtfully. “Hmm. Then maybe we’re dead.”
She sighs. ” I can’t believe I wasted thirteen sleepless nights on a speech just to die before I deliver it.”
He laughed. “You’re worried at undelivered speech? I was two days away from marrying my girlfriend before I woke up here.”
In the third eternity, they decided to get up.
In response to NovemberNotes challenge by Sarah of Heartstring Eulogies and Rosema of A Reading Writer
Day 29 prompt: Hunger of the Pine