Emma's Beloved

Rian dreampt about Ash last night, most likely because Emma and Rian had been discussing her earlier.

In this dream, Rian lived again in my childhood home. Ash stopped for a visit on her way to Emma's New York loft. Twas a very short, simple dream:

Ash sat on the carpeted living room floor, in a large puddle of sunlight, a full knapsack at her feet and the light glinting off her hair. Rian sat a few feet away, on the window seat, back to the windows and the Torrey Pines. The glass was cold against my shoulders.

We were talking of Emma, and of writing, and of the colour of the sky.

And then, from the cushions, Rian saw something interesting on Ash's face. I climbed from the window seat, stepped into the very very warm sunlight, knelt on the white carpet and bent forward. I remember the pupils in her eyes and the pores of her skin and then -

"There are freckles on your nose," said Rian, wisely.

And woke up.