When a dreamer dies, what happens to the dream?
A mirror in a psychiatrist's new house allows her to see into the life of a married woman, murdered there fifty years ago. She wakes up one day with a different face, in a different place and with diff...
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The mellifluous tinkling of the stream filled in the peaceful calm surrounding a quaint little cottage in the middle of nowhere. It was a small homely abode made of bricks and wall with a picket fence surrounding it, exuding a Victorian era vibe. The beauty of its surroundings was ineffable.
It was far away from all human presence in the middle of a forest of sorts with just one small road connecting it to the city. Located on the outskirts of the town, surrounded by trees and a stream adjacent to it, the cottage was a small pocket of nirvana in the city.
Lila James looked around with a small smile on her face as she clutched the steering wheel of her rundown bright red Toyota as it purred and crunched the gravel under its wheels. It was peaceful except for the symphony of the bird chirps echoing across. The road had an avenue of tall trees which led to her new home.
The fence peeked through the leaves and the purling brook made its way into her sight. Ever since she was young, Lila had loved solitude and had been undeterred by the fear of darkness. This place felt like it had been made for her.
Getting close to the house, she drove off the road and veered onto the adjacent lawn in front of the house, thinking a small apology to the flowers her car had mercilessly crushed to death.
Cutting off the engine, she latched her hand on the lever and pulled, stepping out of the car. A few escaped curls tickled her hair as she stretched out her limbs and yawned tiredly. Long driving times always adversely affected her.
Digging out the house key from her jean pocket, she dangled it on her finger as she walked to the trunk of the car and opened it.
There was a faint chime that rung out and a weight fell on her feet. She saw a dream catcher fall on her feet and frowned, perplexed.
She definitely hadn't put it there. Coming to the conclusion that it was her mother who had 'freaked out' at the prospect of her shifting and had started packing like she was moving to Mars, she overlooked it and bent down to pick it up.
Unzipping one bag from the mountain of them in the boot, she stuffed in the dreamcatcher through the small slit and closed the zipper.
'Time to move everything', she mumbled to herself as she started tugging the bags as they tumbled down near her feet. Once they had formed a heap on the ground, she shut the boot of the car and opened the back-seat door. There were six boxes lined carefully and tied back with a string, the 'fragile' sticker on them standing out clearly.
There were books in half of them but her mother had insisted on putting a sticker on each box since she had bought six and had no idea what to do with the three leftover ones.
Deciding to deal with them later she closed the door and tugged each suitcase inside the house after unlocking the door. Then came the boxes. Collapsing on the sofa, she looked at the perfect mess her luggage had made in front of her.
Time to start unpacking.
She could really use some sleep.
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