Short Story 7


For years I’ve had this recurring dream. In this dream I’m at my church—a little white church on the top of a green hill. I’m in a wedding dress, and I’m terrified. I’m about to marry someone I’ve never met. I don’t want to, but everyone I love is there and all of them are telling me it’s too late to back out now. I start to walk down the aisle, trembling and teary, but I never see the groom. I wake up before I can.

The dream came back in the early days of Sam, only twice as vivid. Suddenly my subconscious had decided that Sam was the groom-to-be, and I wasn’t ready to marry him. I tearfully told him I wasn’t ready, braced myself for his anger.

It didn’t come. He shrugged and calmly said, “Don’t worry about it.” Clearly the time wasn’t right, and he could wait until it was.

And then I woke up.


Ramble back at me...

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