She tossed, and then turned. Fluffed her pillow and then smashed it. Opened the window to get a cool breeze, and then snuggled into the warmth of the sheets.
Comfort eluded her, and though she chased sleep, she couldn’t catch it.
In the dark room she stared at the ceiling and tried to make images out of the shadows from the moonlight coming in through the windows.
“Why can’t I sleep, I am so tired”, she thought wearily. “Is he waiting for me in my dream? Does he know I am not there?” She chided herself softly, “Of course not. He can’t be there unless I am, it’s my dream after all.”
In the warm sunlight, waves crashing on the beach and salt air invading his nostrils, he sat comfortably on his beach towel.
This was the place he had found himself in every dream for weeks now, except this time she wasn’t there, and the anxiety that had filled his waking thoughts was replaced with confusion.
As she felt sleep finally take hold, she smiled softly and whispered, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
The familiar feel of the sun on her skin, and the deep breathe of the salty ocean air let her know that she had indeed arrived. It took a moment for her to get her bearings and then she realized that she was alone.
She had never been here alone; he had always been there with her. In her mind, it made no sense that he wouldn’t be here.
She looked around and could tell that someone had been there. His side of the towel was mussed and the sand obviously disturbed in the area that he would normally have been sitting. Had he already been there, and left?
“No. That doesn’t make sense. This is my dream. Why isn’t he here?” She closed her eyes tight and tried to concentrate on what she remembered about him, and then opened them quickly.
“Nope. That didn’t work.” She sighed, confused. Now she just wanted to wake up. Then she noticed it.
The writing scrawled in the sand.
