She woke up, and lunged out of bed. She rifled through the drawers to find a pencil, before her fleeting memories of the dream fluttered away.

She scribbled on the paper and grabbed the phone.

When the ringing stopped and her friend answered the phone, she didn’t bother with the pleasantries.

“Meet me as soon as possible. I think I may be losing my mind.”

Later that day, she sat in the coffee shop waiting for her friend to arrive, and she rocked back and forth, nervous, for reasons she couldn’t quite understand.

Her friend sat down, and could clearly see that she was a wreck.

“What is wrong with you, you freaked me out this morning with your call!”

“You remember the dreams I have been having? With the Guy?”

“Oh yeah” she replied with desire in her voice, “did you finally get him off the towel?” She leaned in obviously expecting a stimulating story.

“No, he wasn’t there this time. When I got there he was already gone.” She sat back.

“I think he’s real, and I think he wants me to find him.”