Dream Guy Part 1

The birds outside the window are flying ever so gracefully and the trees are just getting their new leaves after months of being bare. The temperature in this room is very comfortable. Everything is perfect and to the onlooker, I’m having a wonderful afternoon. Unfortunately, I want to be somewhere else. I want to be asleep and this isn’t because I haven’t slept or that I’m tired. I have slept more than any person needs to sleep and this isn’t because I’m lazy or have a boring life. I do it for so much more. It’s for something which most bystanders would call me crazy for.

“Kate,” the woman behind the large executive desk calls, “she’s ready for you.”

I slowly lift my body from the chair and flash the woman a smile. I proceed walking towards an oak door. The door has the name Janet Smith on it. I twist the knob and walk into the room.

The room is quite large. The walls are dark maroon and the floor is hardwood. The room is colder than the lobby. I look at the woman behind a large desk. She has red hair that is rather short. She hasn’t aged that well and now has wrinkles all over her face. Her glasses are pointed out which gives me a sudden feeling like I’m looking at Cruella De Vil.

“Hello, Kate,” she says as she stands up from her huge computer chair, “Please take a seat.”

I walk over to the chair situated in front of her desk. It was the same as the chairs in the lobby. I sit down and look up towards the woman who is now looking out the large window. Her arms are folded loosely and her gaze falls upon a bird making a nest.

I look on her desk and see my manuscript. It’s turned to a few pages before the end. I regain my stare at the woman hoping that she actually read it and not just skimmed through it.

She turns towards her chair and walks over to it. She lowers her body into very slowly with a sigh as her bottom hits it. She stares at me and smiles. I’m not sure if this smile is a pleased smile or a pity smile.

“Did you read my manuscript?” I asked and then gulp.

“Yes, I did read it,” she answers and smiles.

“What did you think of it?”

“You want to know what I really think about it?”

“Yes,” I say almost not wanting to really know.

She pauses and turns through the pages almost trying to find a word to describe my manuscript. The anticipation is killing me. She looks at me again and smiles again.

“I absolutely loved it!”

“Excuse me?” I ask a little shocked.

“I can’t believe you came up with this. I thought you were a lazy uncreative slacker, but now my view of you has totally changed,” She tells me.

I’m a little confused about whether I should be offended or gracious of this comment.

“How did you come up with this concept?” She asks almost forgetting that she just told me I was a lazy uncreative slacker.

“It’s a long story,” I try to convince her so I don’t have to tell her in fear of her firing me because I’m insane.

“Do tell. I love to hear from creative minds how they come up with their masterpieces.”

“You think it’s a masterpiece?” I ask almost wanting to hear myself call my work a masterpiece.

“Yes, it’s very well done. You made me insane just by reading it. I mean I started believing that a person could fall in love in their sleep.”

I squirm a bit and say, “Unbelievable, huh?”

“No, it’s totally believable. You made me believe.”

“I tried to make it that way,” I tell her as I smirk and fidget a bit more. I experienced everything the character in my book felt. I felt the love, but I also felt the pain. I felt the embarrassment, so much embarrassment.

“Please tell me how you imagined this unique topic,” she begs.

“Ok,” I pause and lean back a bit in my chair, “You better sit back. This is going to take awhile…”