Francis felt that familiar curiosity hit her bloodstream and she knew she was going to dream of Randy. Her eyes were looking in shimmers of light and her lungs were light as clouds. That's how she knew it was a dream.
Randy was laughing and Francis ran up to him, trying to hug him. Unfortunately she couldn't touch him physically. In all her other senses however , she felt all of him. Felt his joy, his love, his distance. She felt how much she missed him since he died.
Francis's lungs were suddenly burning up but still light as clouds. No it must be her cheeks burning she thought. As tears ran down her face. It wasn't fair how her dreams were more painful than her realities.
In the dark a voice echoed " because you can't hide it here. You have to face it."
" I didn't ask you. Why don't you just shut up." Francis spoke confidently to the charred space surrounding her.
" I'll never shut up Francis, this isn't your world, I'm in control here. I'll say what I want to, and you'll hear it. Willingly or Unwillingly. " Then the darkness grew quiet.
Francis grew angry and tried to scream but she couldn't. The heat she once felt became ice cold all over her body. She felt like a snowflake. She saw her breath puff out in front of her. Her fingers couldn't wiggle and her nose was dripping. That's when she woke up. In her bed , safe, warm and depressed. Dream of the dead and you'll hear from the living her mom told her when she was younger. Sighing she hoped it wasn't true. Then Francis did what she does best, blocked out the pain, the numbness, the heat and the dark. By turning on three lights. And forgetting about everything else.
YOU ARE READING
Bread For April
Short StoryThis is a tale about how one life connects to other lives. Truths don't always come with explanations . Angels guide us. But the reasons why are a mystery. at least in the beginning...