Emma traced the sharp and hard contours of the wooden table with the tip of her finger. A wall of glass opened onto the busy street, the city alive despite the late hour. The barista took his time making Emma's coffee, there was no rush, seeing that the store was full of empty tables. His movements were sluggish, the bags beneath his eyes bruises on his tan skin. He often looked toward the softly ticking clock above the microwave.
Emma ran her fingers through her dark hair, grabbing fistfuls tighter than necessary as she worked through the knots and busied her shaking hands. Her hair was dark and wild, smudged mascara lined her eyes and her ears were elegantly pointed beneath her curls. She needed the warm cup in her hands, the caffeine in her system and more than anything she needed a distraction. Every second thought drifted to what it would feel like to finally rest her eyes. Emma clenched her fists, metal cut into her palm and cleared her head. Taking deep breaths, she held the coin into the light. The dented circle of gold hummed faintly and shimmered in a way that would have caught the attention of anyone passing by.
But Emma was alone with her thoughts and the exhausted barista. The coin has been tucked in her pocket the last time she had woken up, the last time she had been in Somnium. Emma brushed her finger against the surface of the coin. A rough '2' declared its worth on one side while the beautiful Queen Amber decorated the other. Watery guilt flowed through Emma, choking her and running through her veins like a poison. She remembered the beautifully carved chairs they had sat at, the full moon that had illuminated the night and the tinkling laughter of Queen Amber that had filled the air.
The barista's rich voice pierced the silence and Emma's movements were heavy as she collected her coffee. Sighing, she braced herself as she pushed past the glass door to face the streets of New York. The wind raked at her long coat and the cold sank deep into her bones as snowflakes melted in her dark hair and kissed her cheeks. The rustle of the city filled the air while the buildings towered and reached for the sky with ice frosting the many window panes.
She shook the ice from her hair and strode forward to cross the street when the buzzing in her back pocket drew her attention. Emma didn't need to check the caller to know that it was her mother and she pressed the phone to her ear in a swift motion before she stepped out onto the street. She heard the tires first. The unforgiving sound of rubber sliding against ice . The phantom of a breeze ruffled her hair as she glanced to her right. Her mother, yelling and begging for her to come home, could be heard from the phone's tinny speaker. Emma's lips parted, her eyes widened and her coffee fell to the asphalt as the shining lights grew closer. And closer. Until Emma's cheek was pressed against the cool street, her whole body was burning and everything went dark.
---
"She's going to be fine," the man's voice sounded far away, like eavesdropping on a conversation that took place in another room.
"Fine? She can't even open her eyes," her voice rose and fell in frantic pitches and was comfortingly familiar but Emma's thoughts were distant and she couldn't bring a face to mind.
"Her body is recovering," the man assured the woman once more, his voice soothing, "She just needs a little time."
Emma wanted to, no, needed to open her eyes. It felt important. Like everything depended on waking up. The voices began to feel farther and farther away until only the faint hysteria of the woman was audible. Darkness swirled around her and it was like grasping at threads that twisted and tightened until they eventually snapped.
---
The feeling in her toes began to return. Then her arms, then her lips until finally her whole body was awake but Emma had her eyes squeezed shut. She couldn't be here. Not now. But contrary to her protests she could feel the soft, feathery grass against her skin and the slight breeze that seized her senses. She could hear the lilting chatter of the fae folk distant and close at the same time. She could smell the sweet air perfumed by the Tiscus blossoms that surrounded her. It all felt so familiar, yet, so uninviting as Emma lay in the meadow, as she always did, when she entered The Land of Somnium
