Was it real or just a dream?
He sat in front of the computer. His eyes were flat and tired from hours of unending work. He put his elbows on the desk and rubbed his eyes and temples. He ached, his head, shoulders, he even thought his hair ached. He closed his eyes, and pictured a lazy day of fishing in the warm waters, and kneaded his shoulders.
He smelled her scent, sweet and soft. Her hands softly touched his, replacing his on his neck and shoulders. She kneaded at the knots that should have been supple muscles, leaned forward and kissed the top of his head.
He began his story, telling her about the work, and workers. He told her the good and the bad, the loneliness of being on the road, to the need to get home. She listened to his tale, as she always had and always would. She stood close behind him, felt her warmth, and her concern. He leaned back in the chair, and felt his back pressing against her. Her perfume filled the air. Her fingers continued to work their magic on his shoulders.
He longed to have some time off, some time away from the everyday stresses. He shared his desire to just get away. She nodded, and continued to listen. She knew he needed the time to relax and have some fun. She encouraged him to get away, take some time for himself. She continued to knead, and loosen the stiffness from his shoulders and back.
He opened his eyes and gazed back at the computer screen. She saw that he was feeling more relaxed, but he was still so tired. She wished she could do something more. He typed in his message, “Good night, dear,” and cut off the camera. She typed back, “Sweet dreams.”
When he cut off the computer, he said to himself, “It was.”