The night was dark and still, with the only sound coming from the soft hum of a distant owl. Mark lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was exhausted from the long day at work, but his mind refused to let him rest. Mark had been having strange dreams lately, dreams that seemed almost too real.
As he drifted off to sleep, he found himself standing in a vast, open field. The grass was lush and green, stretching out as far as the eye could see. A warm breeze blew past, rustling the leaves of the nearby trees. It was a peaceful place, and Mark felt a sense of calm wash over him.
He walked through the field, taking in the beauty of his surroundings. As he walked, he noticed that the sky was changing colors. It started as a deep blue, then slowly faded to purple, then pink, and finally settled on a warm orange. It was like watching a painting come to life.
Mark continued to walk until he came to a small cottage. It was quaint and charming, with a thatched roof and a white picket fence. He approached the door and knocked, but there was no answer. He tried the handle and found that it was unlocked, so he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The interior of the cottage was cozy and inviting. A warm fire crackled in the fireplace, casting a soft glow across the room. There was a small table in the center of the room, and two chairs on either side. On the table was a vase of wildflowers, and a loaf of bread.
Mark felt a sudden sense of familiarity in the room, as if he had been there before. He couldn't quite place it, but it felt like home. He took a seat in one of the chairs and gazed into the fire, lost in thought.
As he sat there, he began to feel a strange sensation in his body. It was like his limbs were becoming heavier and heavier, as if he were sinking into the chair. He tried to stand, but found that he couldn't move. Panic set in as he realized he was trapped.
Suddenly, he was jolted awake. He sat up in bed, gasping for air. It was just a dream, he told himself. Just a dream. But he couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than that. It felt real, like he had actually been there.
Mark couldn't shake the dream from his mind as he went about his day. He tried to focus on his work, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the cottage. He couldn't understand why the dream had affected him so deeply.
That night, he fell asleep again, and found himself back in the field. He walked to the cottage once more, but this time, he was hesitant to enter. He stood outside, staring at the door, trying to remember what had happened the last time he was inside.
As he stood there, he heard a soft voice behind him. "Are you going to come in, or just stand there all night?"
Mark turned to see a woman standing behind him. She was young, with long brown hair and bright green eyes. She wore a simple white dress and a smile on her face.
"Who are you?" Mark asked.
"I'm Sarah," she said, extending her hand. "And you're in my dream."
Mark shook her hand, still unsure of what was happening. "Your dream? What does that mean?"
"It means," Sarah said, "that we're both dreaming. And we're sharing the same dream."
Mark was confused, but intrigued. "How is that possible?"
Sarah shrugged. "I don't know. It just is. But come on, let's go inside. I have something to show
