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Sleep meant dreams for Brigid. Dreams meant truly feeling alive in the fantasy world of her own making that was more real to her than waking life.
She daydreamed as well, but it was never as vivid as when her unconscious mind took over entirely.
“Real life” always intruded one way or another. She had to keep her wits about her to respond correctly to questions being asked, conversations she was expected to participate in, and manners she had to exhibit.
Tonight, of all nights, she wanted to be so deeply asleep, she might as well be in a coma.
Because, tonight, she wasdefinitelymeeting her Pale Prince to…
Well, she didn’t know exactly what her alter ego Titania was going to do. But something was definitely going to bedone!
She began a soft, warbly snore to hurry things along.
The sounds of sleeping would surely lure true slumber her way. She’d become quite adept at making herself fall asleep no matter where she was, tired or not. A quarter of a century of practice helped perfect the skill.
Soon enough, Brigid’s mind calmed, blanketed by a soothing darkness.
She’d always been comfortable in the dark, where most children feared it. Darkness meant entry into the other world for her.
A fantasy world all her own…
Tonight, instead of stepping into a forest glen, she walked through a heavy mist on sandy shores.
It seemed as if smoky clouds had descended from the skies to blanket the earth below, wrapping her in their ghostly embrace. In her dream, the mist wasn’t cold, but a soft, comforting warmth. Like steam.
And when she arrived at the water’s edge, they parted like theater curtains with the breeze. Revealing a silver dragon resting upon a boulder jutting out of tranquil ocean waves.
He was sunbathing on his back, it appeared. And though she was dozens of yards away, she could see him as clearly as if she was viewing him through the most ingenious binoculars.
He lay on the flat of the rock like a boneless kitten, completely spread out, his claws curled close to his body, tail dangling down one side. His belly was gleaming white gold, covered with thinner, finer looking scales than on his back.
His mouth was curled in a sleepy smile, and his eyes were innocently closed. Long, black, silver-tipped lashes cast beguiling shadows on his cheeks. The fine, fish-like tendrils of his whiskers curled and uncurled as he softly snored.
Not knowing what she did, not even thinking about it, Brigid made her way to him. It was a good thing too, for if she realized she was walking on water, she might have flailed and sunk like a stone instead.
But this was her dream.
Her reality.
She could do whatever she liked. Whatever she could imagine.
And so, she did.
With just a few more steps, she arrived at the bottom of the boulder.
She stood on a small flat ledge on bare feet in her gossamer gown and looked up at him. Unable to help herself, she reached out to touch the wispy, fin-like tip of his tail.
It felt both soft and hard at the same time. Like feathers over a stiff, extended wing.
The tail flicked out of her hand suddenly, making her gasp at the rasping sensation as it slid across her palm. Then, it began to wag back and forth like the pendulum in the grandfather clock at Rathbourne Place.
Hypnotizing, really.
Brigid couldn’t take her eyes off it.
Offhim.
The most magnificent creature she’d ever beheld.
