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"Get it together," she muttered to herself. This wasn't high school. She refused to feel threatened by Isla's beauty or the complicated history she shared with Simon.
Still...questions gnawed at her. What happened between them? Why did Isla leave Simon so suddenly? And why return now?
Charlotte groaned, rubbing her temples. She couldn't make sense of it tonight. Right now, she needed rest. The old inn creaked around her as she burrowed deeper under the covers. Tomorrow she would face things with a clear head.
For now, she focused on relaxing her mind, listening to the distant surf. Gradually her breathing slowed and her limbs grew heavy. As she hovered at the edge of sleep, her last conscious thought was of Simon. She wished he were here now, holding her close as the shadows gathered.
Charlotte drifted into a deep sleep, her worries temporarily fading away. As she entered the realm of dreams, the scene around her began to transform.
She found herself wandering the halls of the inn, bathed in moonlight streaming through the windows. There was an eerie quality to the stillness, like the calm before a storm.
Suddenly, a bright light flashed before Charlotte's eyes. She raised her hand to shield her face as the glow intensified. When she lowered her arm, she gasped in astonishment.
There, hovering in the air, was Isla. But she looked nothing like her usual self. Isla's slender frame was now adorned with gossamer wings, her hair spilled over her shoulders in golden waves. She wore a dress made of flower petals, vines curling around her arms and legs.
Charlotte blinked hard, trying to dispel this vision. But the winged Isla remained, regarding her with an impish grin. Then, in a high, singsong voice, she cried, "Come catch me if you can!"
With that, Isla zipped down the hallway in a streak of light. Charlotte hurried after her, stunned and confused. What was happening? She had to be dreaming - there was no other explanation.
Isla flitted just ahead, always out of reach. She trailed glitter in her wake, leaving the floors slick. Charlotte slid along the hardwood in her socks, arms windmilling to keep her balance.
"Isla, wait!" she called out in exasperation. But Isla merely giggled and continued her aerial acrobatics.
Charlotte pursued doggedly, determined to catch this puzzling, pixie version of Isla. But the fairy was crafty, disappearing in bursts of light whenever Charlotte drew near.
Charlotte shook her head in weary bafflement. Would this bizarre dream never end? Charlotte chased Isla down the stairs, sliding precariously on the glittery floor. She grabbed the banister to keep from tumbling head over heels.
At the bottom, Isla hovered, waggling her fingers in a tiny wave. Then she blew a handful of glitter right at Charlotte's face. Sputtering, Charlotte swiped at the shimmering dust. When she could see again, Isla had vanished once more.
"That's it!" Charlotte yelled, stamping her foot. She was through with these games.
Just then, a noise came from the kitchen - the unmistakable clatter of pots and pans. Charlotte hurried toward it, intent on catching Isla red-handed.
She skidded to a stop in the doorway. There stood Isla amidst a whirlwind of cooking implements swirling through the air. Charlotte watched in astonishment as Isla conducted the symphony of clanging metal with a wooden spoon.
"Bravo!" Charlotte said, clapping slowly. "You've had your fun. Now come down from there."
Isla smirked and cried, "Never!" Then she zoomed up the chimney in a burst of soot.
Charlotte coughed, waving away the cloud of dust. Though frustrated, she had to admit - this dream Isla had style. With a wry chuckle, she set off again in pursuit of the elusive fairy. Charlotte hurried into the dining room, following the sound of clattering and clanking. She skidded to a stop in the doorway, mouth falling open at the bizarre scene before her.
There, in the middle of the grand room, was a troupe of dancing lobsters. Their bulky bodies swayed and shuffled in time to an upbeat melody. Their claws clicked together rhythmically as they twirled and pirouetted across the floor.
Isla stood atop the large dining table, conducting them with a baton. "Come on, my lovelies! Pick up the tempo!" she cried.
The lobsters moved faster, spinning and side-stepping with unexpected grace. Charlotte watched, dumbfounded. She had to admit, it was an impressive production.
"Bravo, bravo!" Isla cheered, as the lobsters finished with a flashy claw-clacking finale. "Encore, encore!"
The lobsters scuttled back into formation, ready to perform again. Charlotte stepped forward and cleared her throat loudly.
"Alright, that's quite enough!" she announced, hands on her hips. "Shoo! Out with you!"
She waved her arms at the creatures, trying to herd them toward the door. They clicked their claws in protest but obeyed, waddling out in a straight line.
Isla pouted. "You're no fun!" She vanished in a puff of glitter.
Charlotte sighed, surveying the lobster-littered room. "What a bizarre dream," she muttered, shaking her head. Despite the madness, she had to smile. Leave it to her subconscious to create such an eccentric diversion from her real-life worries.
