3

The day started in a field. A pale blue sky faded into healthy, green grass. I couldn't feel any breeze, but I saw the thick blades steadily shifting and so assumed there was some wind in the air.

I am usually met with extravagant scenes when I shut my sightless eyes, but this place was calm. This dream was subtle. Looking around, I realized there was a light fog covering the field in which I was laying. Off to my right, I noticed a figure walking towards me through the mist. It was a man. He had dark brown, silky hair and grey eyes. I had never seen this man before but somehow I recognized him.

The fog started to thicken. I reached for the familiar figure but was losing sight. The fog curled around my face and crept into my eyes. Soon I could no longer see the man at all and then the whole scene was swallowed in foggy darkness...

I woke up but kept my eyes closed for a moment. I tried desperately to find the man again, any sliver of an image of him. Naturally I could not and finally peeled my eyelids away from my glossy eyeballs. Back to reality.

20 minutes later, I was shutting my apartment door behind me and walking toward the staircase. I took the usual 168 stairs to the bottom floor of the apartment building and walked out the front door. 24 steps to the newspaper stand outside the apartment building, and I was ready to go back inside. Before I turned back toward my shelter, though, I heard shouting. I figured it couldn't be later than 8:30 am the morning. Usually I'm an early riser, but I slept in a bit today.

Carefully, I took 15 steps toward the noise and realized it was a bigger commotion than I had initially assumed. I felt my way to the edge of the sidewalk and crossed the street. As I tried to figure out with the argument was all about, I heard a familiar voice humming along to the morning radio station. I didn't recognize the song.

"Spare some change?" a voice asked.

"We've met before," I replied. "We sang Judy Garland together."

"Ah, you've returned," he said. "Unusual. People don't normally stop to chat twice. Or even once for that matter." The sadness in my friend's voice made my heart hurt.

"What's going on over there?" I asked. I pointed in the general direction, but wasn't sure exactly where the shouting was coming from.

"The truth with all its power lies inside me," he responded. "Care to sit?"

"If I sit, I won't ever get up."

"Stay for a while, then." I sat.

I heard a grunt and smelled something strong. It wasn't exactly bad, but it by no means was the scent of cleanliness. My friend's voice was closer now. He'd stood up.

"I'm going to find out what all that ruckus is," he said. "I can't think with all that ruckus." I heard him walk away, taking the unusual smell with him.

While I waited for my friend to join me again, I listened to the radio's morning station, which was playing on a radio near where the man was previously sitting. Suddenly I remembered Felix. He needed his breakfast. Without saying goodbye to my friend, I stood up and walked back in the direction I came, crossed the street and entered the Castle Apartments. I took the 168 stairs in record pace and headed toward my apartment, number 783. Felix rubbed against my leg when I opened the door, craving both attention and food. I fed him, pat his ears, and closed my window. It really was hard to think with all the ruckus.