The sun spilled with autumnal brilliance through the freshly washed window as the morning began at the end of the dream in the life that so many people wish were their own, yet I had been blessed with the ability to actually live. Life had not always been this bed of roses though, and I knew somewhere down inside that living in this paradise would not or could not last forever.
Cilver lay beside me still as if dead, covering her face with the comforter so as not to allow any ray of light to disturb the bliss of a morning’s moment. There we lay caught between the dream world and reality, yet anymore we could not differentiate what we dreamed from what was true. Six years now this life had been our experience, but last night I dreamed what I thought could possibly be reality.
Leaning over to wake Cilver I noticed a scar on her left shoulder that I was positive had not been there before. My mind raced back to what I thought only a glitch in my perfect dream state and now I questioned whether reality was truly where I was waking. Turning away from her I crept into the lavatory to peer into the mirror…just to be sure. Hazily groping for the switch, flicking it upward the lights flashed for a second the room then returned to the dimly lit void it was before. Something did catch my attention as the six bulbs simultaneously concluded their purpose. It was a disfigured face in the mirror, strangely familiar, yet distinguished from the one I knew from last night.
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