“What do you mean, you were in my dream?”

Sue shook her head gently as she spoke and ran her fingers through her hair; her eyes told a tale of disbelief.

I tried to think of a way to explain what I had experienced without sounding insane, but there was nothing to tell her.

“Look, I know it sounds crazy as sunscreen in a rainstorm, but when you woke up and described that room to me, and what you were doing in your dream – you know counting the shells – I knew before you finished explaining, because I had been there watching you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be there, but I was.”

She looked at me, the redness in her eyes showed me that she was starting to cry;

“It doesn’t make sense, you can’t know; you can’t have seen my dream, it’s just not possible. I don’t want to think about the alternative… I like being able to explain my world. Maybe I was talking in my sleep and you heard me in yours; is that possible?”

I nodded. I knew what I believed, but I could see that she did not.

“Yeah, that must be it.”

View this story's 1 comments.