Running.
Why does this seem so familiar? I've had this dream before, but... more than that, why?
Am I going in circles? I feel like I'm headed somewhere. It's hard to tell one dimly lit corridor apart from another - they're all tinted the same shade of green.
Eventually, the hallway opens up into a room with a vaulted ceiling. A staircase on the right winds its way up to a second floor. The glare of moonlight casts deep shadows.
I normally wake up by now. I suppose I climb the stairs?
The staircase-
Huh. I feel like I was in the middle of something. Strange.
The clock shows 4 AM, as usual - 5 hours? Could be worse. On my way to the bathroom, a glance out the window... Ah, she's awake.
God DAMN it is cold out here. I should have put on another layer. Or two. Why can't we just meet in the lobby or something, where it's warm? A brief pause and a glare. She really dislikes hypotheticals.
No smoking inside.
Ah... yeah. You should consider not killing yourself with those.
Killing myself with something else is okay?
Well... Wait, was she serious?
Asshole.
Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean it. Please stop staring at me. Jesus.
Good. Looks like she has something to say. So, what was it tonight?
Shit. It's pretty fuzzy for some reason. I think I was falling?
Again? You had that dream last night.
Yeah, think so. I wake up before I hit the ground, so I can't complain.
It's from that grim shit you write. You'd sleep better if you stuck to heartwarming coming-of-age stories about a young boy and his race h-
Anything but that! Anything. Ugh. I really want to finish this one. It's been bouncing around inside my skull ever since I got the idea, so I need to do something with it. It might be something special.
Mmm. She might be humoring me, but that seemed like genuine agreement.
So, what about you?
Drowning.
Shit, again? I'm sorry. That one sounded awful.
... do you need to talk about it?
I... yeah. If you don't mind?
Of course not. It's amazing how vivid her nightmares are. The drowning one is by far the worst.
So... it's always dark, and it's cold. I hear the sound of... wind rushing past my ears? But I'm underwater. This time it was warm. That should be better, but I think it was worse.
Hm. That's odd. Maybe you're not in the ocean? But where, then?
Hm... Some kind of hot spring? That would be warm at night.
Oh! That could be it. Maybe the rushing wind is gas rising past you? Ah, I'm getting into this. Need to conceal my interest... might seem like I'm not taking her seriously.
She seems bothered by this for some reason. A deep sigh. It probably doesn't mean anything. I have no idea why I'd dream about a hot spring.
Wait, why is that the first question that comes to mind? ... drowning, though? There's a reason you'd dream about that?
She's upset. I shouldn't have asked that. I'm going back. Later. Doesn't even extinguish her cigarette. I guess the odds of a fire starting are low in this weather.
Shit. Yeah... you too. Hope you get some sleep.
The comparative warmth of my apartment makes me feel like I could curl up in bed and fall back asleep immediately. That dream, though... I still feel uneasy. Is it just because I can't remember it? I usually remember these things perfectly, but no matter how many times I have this one... Come to think of it, my dreams don't usually repeat. Maybe just the stress of the deadline coming up. Well, if I'm not going to sleep, I should try to get some writing done. The problem with this story - I just can't pin down the conflict. I've got characters, and I'm absolutely in love with the idea, but I can't figure out what - or who - is actually threatening them. It bothers me because I don't usually write this way, but all I've got are scattered images, thoughts and feelings loosely connected. I have to figure out how to stitch all this together into something coherent. Make it work somehow. An idea like this deserves it. If I did a shitty job on this, I'm not sure I could face her. Maybe it's not a horror story? That's no good, though - some second-rate thriller novelist decides to write a romance? Nobody's going to publish that. They'd probably recall my last book and burn it as a symbolic gesture. Well, I can always warm up by writing something else. Once I'm in the mood I might be able to make some headway on this damn novel.
In the dead of winter, a secluded hot spring known only to the locals... the softly rippling surface reflects the dim light of a waning moon...
At least it's not snowing. We should try texting or instant messages or something.
I'd be smoking out here by myself, trying to use a phone keyboard with gloves on. Foiled again. Any progress today? I know that deadline's approaching. Don't remind me. It took a while to get in the mood, but I managed to write a dozen pages or so. Will they come back from the editor covered in red ink? You know me too well. They always do, so I try not to worry. Serenity to accept the things you can't change, you know? A bemused smile. Serenity... not the word that comes to mind when I think of you. Oooh. What word does come to mind? Is it suitable for general audiences? Perhaps it's... 'ravishing'? Writers and your fucking thesauruses. Actually, is the word thesaurus plural? I need to look that up. I'm not telling you. Your ego's big enough as-is. An obvious response comes to mind. She knocked the wind right out of me last time, though, so I'll hold onto it. Just gonna let this conversation thread drop... And this time? She pauses for a bit longer than usual, like she's deciding whether to tell me. That usually means... Hallways. Yeah. Different this time? A little. I suppose that's a small blessing. Seems like it'd be easier to fall asleep, even if it wakes you up. Sort of. It's not scary, but it's... Unsettling? Hm? What do you mean? You know when you suddenly feel like you've forgotten something? The thing you forgot happened just a moment ago, and it was important. Sounds familiar. Ah, I get it. That must be frustrating. If you want, you can tell me about it? I'm happy to listen, and you might remember that important thing. She smiles at me. Don't see that very often. Are you sure? There's something odd about that look on her face... I keep thinking about what you said the other day. What is this? She's usually reluctant, but... If writing a dream down gives it power over us... should I be telling you? ... why is she still smiling? It's bad enough that we wake up every night. I don't want to make things worse. I can look forward to many restless nights if I miss this deadline. It's fine, really. Words alone aren't that powerful. They leave our heads as easily as they enter, you know? It's just that act... committing it to paper with your own hands, the words flow through you, right? I don't know if she's buying it. I sleep better now that we talk like this. It's easier to forget these things if you tell someone about them, I think. You're casting them out of your head, and they can just float away. Ah, that did it. ... yeah. I sleep better now, too. I'm climbing across these... scaffolds? Twisted pieces of brass, running along the walls. I can just barely see inside, but everything is tinted a dull green - I guess the walls are glass. It is different. But I can't put my finger on it... I'm just desperate to get inside, like someone important is waiting for me. Wait. Someone important? ... yeah, definitely a person. A balcony is up ahead. I make my way over and climb down onto it. The door is open... maybe I came out through it? ... came out? Once I enter, it's just hallways. She was inside before? I run, without hesitation. I pass straight through the intersections. Has she mentioned being inside before the scaffolds? I know where I'm headed. Doors line the hallway, but they're locked. I need to check my notes... You try opening them? They're locked. No point. That look she's giving me... like I should know this? I'm getting a headache. The cold's getting to you, isn't it? I'm done with my cigarette anyway. Yeah... I could use a cup of tea right about now. Sleep well, okay? Another smile. I will.