I awoke from a crazy night.
The only things I could recall came as flashes, like lights briefly turned on and back off again. A face, dancing, sex. A few too many shots, a few too many neat whiskeys. The only solid thought in my mind, aside from the pulsing in my brain, was the thought that last night had been special.
As I pushed myself up and out of the bed, I looked back. And there she was.
From her auburn hair to her delicate face, every feature was exquisite. I leaned down and brushed her shoulder. She stirred but did not wake. I shrugged and moved to the kitchen to start cooking breakfast.
As the bacon sizzled in the pan and the eggs sat on a plate, she stumbled into the kitchen, leaning against a wall and looking only at the floor. I approached her, smiling. “Good morning sleepyhead,” I heard myself say. She looked up slowly, then began to dissolve before my eyes.
I reached out a hand, but could not reach her. I felt the floor move under my feet, and my last thought before I hit the ground was one of confusion.
In a cold sweat I awoke, clutching the blanket. No hangover. No memories. Just the beautiful face that I wished so bad was real. As I dressed and headed out the door, I thought of her smile. All it brought me was sadness.
Riding the train was uneventful. I browsed news on my phone, intent at ignoring the world around me. It seemed the world would not allow that, when I heard a soft voice repeat, “Excuse me?”
I looked up and nearly dropped my phone. For there, standing before me was the girl of my dreams. Seemingly ignorant of my facial expression, her kind eyes seemed to ask the next question.
“Is that seat taken?”
I shook my head and scooted, making room for her. I glanced her way occasionally as she pulled out a book and started to read. I tried to gather the words, when all too soon the voice rang out.
“Spring Hill Station.”
And then she was gone.
MrZakGuy 