I’m a child, at school, in a dream. The classroom floors are shiny and clean, the wooden desks evenly spaced, so that no child can reach another child. There’s no one here, and I know I should leave, but there’s something threatening outside, and I’m afraid.

I wander the classroom, remembering a boy I knew. Curly blond hair. A mischievous smile.

No! There is no boy.

But I want there to be a boy. I want to know who he is. I want to talk to him.

You’re awake now. The boy’s not real.

I get out of bed and go to the bathroom to pee. As I sit, the pipes in the wall begin to tremble and moan. Water drips into the tub. Why? What could cause such a thing? Am I still in the dream?

I go to the office and turn on my computer to enter the dream, so I can figure it out later. I hear a sound outside. I can’t tell what it is, and I don’t want to look. If I need help, who would I call? I’m not sure the world even exists anymore, after being trapped inside for so long, hiding from the plague that rules the world.

People I once knew, are now just pixels of color on my computer screen, coming alive only in video images that may or may not be real. Everything can be faked these days.

The morning light wakes me, and I find myself slumped over my keyboard. I’m not sure what’s happened, but I’m more afraid than ever. Afraid to be alone. Afraid to not be alone.

I go to the bathroom and look down on the street from the little window. No one there. Not a sign of life. Nothing. Nada.

I go back to my bed and pull the covers over my head.

I’m alone now. Completely alone.

I want the man to be here. But he’s not.

I breathe deep, again and again and again, forcing my mind to be silent.

There he is. I can feel his warmth. I can hear the soft whisper of his breath. That curly blond headed boy is grown up, and he’s here, and more real than anything.

I’m back in the dream.