Alls Well

The dream last night had seemed so real, but it was just a dream, right?

It was still clear in his mind's eye, but none of it was coming to pass, he grumbled. He missed her so much. A cold solitary breakfast mocked him even as the golden dream lingered to taunt him.

Instead, everything seemed to be business as normal. He arrived at work early, but the coffee was already cold, and someone had used the last of the creamer. By lunchtime, he didn't want the food he brought, but everything at the cafeteria was overcooked and unidentifiable as food. And, to top it all off, just as he was about to clear the last project off his desk, his manager brought him three more, all of which needed to be done yesterday, as usual.

In short, it was one of those days when everything seemed to go wrong.

Making his way home was another lesson in frustration. Traffic sucked and he was almost out of gas. At the last minute he stopped at Walla Wines and picked up a favorite of his and Alissa's. He couldn't stand it much longer. But he would not call and take her mind off her big break. He had that much pride left, for now.

He threw his keys onto the counter in the kitchen they'd remodeled together, and set the wine in the fridge. He had the Pizza Dudes on speed dial and they would be there in about an hour. He wandered through the house, restless. Feeling sorry for the day, for himself, for haunting himself with such dreams. But oh, the dream had been so perfect, evoking his memory of a perfect date on a perfect day. She was still perfect for him. Even in her snippiest moods, he adored her.

The TV caught his attention for a few minutes, but watching the news didn't truly distract him, so he plunked one their favorite movies on and meadered through the paper until the pizza came.

When he opened it, he sighed. He had ordered it half and half, again. He stared at the pineapple and canadian bacon, her favorite and had to fight the urge to call, to hear her voice. He ate his half, leaving the box on the counter.  Besides, she would call later tonight, as she always did each evening when shooting was finished.

Nothing seemed to hold his attention long, to distract him from the hole that her absence created. Impatient with himself, he grabbed his windbreaker and went for a walk, a long one. But he couldn't resist taking his phone with him, just in case.

It was dark when he returned and he was ready to call it a night. As he tossed the keys once again onto the counter, he knew something was different. He couldn't quite figure out what. Staring at the counter, he was distracted by an odd feeling.

The prickles on his neck told him he was being watched.

He turned in a wide circle, but nothing appeared out of order. Everything was the same as this morning - empty. Wishful thinking he muttered to himself, and decided to shower and turn in.

He headed down the hall. Funny he didn't remember leaving a light on, hmmmm. His hackles rose.

Cautiously he approached the doorway to the room. A light danced and flickered there, alive. Oh no, fire! He quickly moved into the bedroom, trying to frantically remember what he could grab to smother a flame. Drop, something and roll, right? He stopped suddenly at the sight of the pizza box on the bed, and then a movement from the dark of the bathroom door caught his eye. Alissa emerged, wearing a towel and drying her hair with a second one. She stopped, surprised as well. For a few moments they both simply stared. Then slowly she smiled, and reached for the candle.

Shadows quivered on the wall as the candle flickered, then fizzled to nothing.

Which suited them both.