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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Contest · #2176465
Dreams that reminisce of beauty in our past are even better when that past is now reality.
As she drifted off to sleep, she had a beautiful dream of a young man. He had coal black hair and dark brown eyes. The memory of those eyes had etched itself into her heart. He possessed the power to look deep with gazes not glimpses. Often, he looked with the intent to know her thoughts. At other times his gaze sent smoldering sparks that started a fire that burned with great intensity between them.

As her dream continued to swirl around it took her on a quirky turn to the memory of when she had met some of his friends for the first time. The greetings were unusual as they didn’t use his name but called him by a nickname. In fact, they all were introduced by their nicknames. She remembered thinking how odd. Why nicknames, what is in a nickname? He later shared the stories behind each nickname and their basis on personal traits that were unique and obviously quite memorable, she understood that for this group what is in a nickname was a sentiment and display of friendship.

The scene of her dream once again changed and she found herself in a wonderful place. It evoked memories of one of his qualities that she held most dear. He was such a romantic. There were so many times he would show up with something that told her he had thought about her as he went through his day. Once it was a single red rose and she remembered clearly the love and sincerity of his gift. It was confirmed by the sparkle in his eyes as he watched her beaming smile appear at being so loved. She also remembered when he brought her a small and simple ornament of his affection. It was a trinket, a dainty locket he had found in a small shop in a small town on his route that day. He described how he looked through the glass case and as soon as he spotted it, she was captured in his thoughts and there was no question of who was meant to wear the locket.

As her dream began to fade and her eyes began to flutter and open, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and saw a man lying in the bed across from her. His hair silver with waves that reflected the morning light as it came through the window. After the vivid series of memories that her dream gave her of the young man with the coal black hair, she wondered if this was the same person. Could life be that cruel? Could it have just given her a beautiful recollection of her dearest love and then allowed her to awake to an imposter? Then as the man started to wake and his eyes opened, that memorizing gaze of his beautiful brown eyes beamed straight into that deep, deep part of her and she knew two things. He was no imposter and the dream had been more than memories, it was a reminder that for many years now she had been blessed to be with the love of her life. It was not just a dream. It was a beautiful reality.

© Copyright 2018 Beatrice Stalwart (autumnbeam at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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