Your dreams were rare and unmemorable. Your nights were, mostly, black, sleepless nights that turned into foggy mornings in the blink of an eye. But tonight’s dream was different.

You stood in a damp forest, enveloped by ethereal blue-gray mist. A thunderstorm must have just passed—the rich, charged scent of rain clung to your nostrils with earthy sweetness like soil’s breath. Sodden leaves and sticks gave way beneath your feet as you pushed through the mist, plumes of it swirling around you like clouds of memory as your venture into the forest displaced the haze. And you then saw him.

At first, he was a silhouette—indigo dark, shifty and veiled. A few more steps and he was there—or was he? His skin swirled and glowed like the mist that blanketed him, like it could be blown away by consciousness’ sober breath. His eyes were dark gunmetal blue like the rolling clouds in the angsty sky. Lifetimes swirled in them.

You wanted to be here forever, you thought, but you felt consciousness creeping up on you—you’d awaken soon. As if he’d read your thoughts, he sat up and took your hand in his, his touch light as a dream. “Stay,” he pleads. Do you?