by Bec Fary
He woke up before me but I stayed in bed. He brought me coffee but I let it go cold, preferring the sleep-in, the waking/sleeping/waking/sleeping rotation of the extended morning.
I dreamt I had a secret, or something important, stored in my dreams, but I don’t remember what it was. Every time I fell asleep, in my dreams, I would get closer and closer to this truth. I would see it, asleep, but I could never remember it after I woke.
There were people around me, supporting me, but they also wanted something from me. I think they wanted to know what it was I was dreaming about. Whatever that secret hiding in my dreams was, they had to know it. So they kept urging me to sleep.
In my dreams, I slept and woke in a purposeful rhythm.
And then I woke to real life as he kissed me goodbye.