OOM - dreams
Ella doesn't dream.
Not very often, anyway.
But tonight she does.
Turned on one side, below a red-and-white striped comforter, she dreams.
She dreams of outer space, and the Millenium Falcon, and the things Han's told her about flying. She sees a great vastness filled with the stars she sees in the Milliways sky, over and over with no end in sight, and it's beautiful because it's free.
She dreams of mountains, greater than the ones that repeat themselves out back, topped with the lovely snow she saw when she first arrived, and she can feel her feet grow cold. She dreams the mountains are covered with trees greener than neon highlighter, greener than fake Christmas trees, and she dreams she can see her breath in the air. Her cheeks sting and she climbs higher and higher until there is only a whiteness that is clouds and fog and snow.
She dreams of the sea, as blue and as clear as the sky, lapping at the edges of -- something, a boat, and of the sail, a huge white cloth stretched taut. She dreams it goes on for so long that the where the water ends is indistinguishable from where the sky starts. And she dreams she can put her hands in the water and feel the fish swim by, and watch as the seagulls pass overhead.
She dreams of cities, great gleaming buildings towering over her, and pushing by people who aren't still or rough like clothes racks. She dreams they say hello, smile, and wave, are tangible, are real.
And she dreams of being able to experience all of it for herself.
She dreams of Charles, and his poetry. She dreams of how he taught her of the outside world, how much she'd felt for him at the time, and how scared she'd been when the Dark Men had come to take them away. She dreams of Doc, and the bonfire. She dreams of Kédra, and how beautiful he was. She dreams of Gordon, and how much she wishes he were safe. She dreams of the wolf, and the feel of the wolf's fur on her hands. Of Persephone, and grapefruit juice. Of Mother, and the water gun.
And as she wakes, she dreams of Truman, and she dreams --
-- no, she knows --
-- she loves him.
And Ella goes downstairs.
Not very often, anyway.
But tonight she does.
Turned on one side, below a red-and-white striped comforter, she dreams.
She dreams of outer space, and the Millenium Falcon, and the things Han's told her about flying. She sees a great vastness filled with the stars she sees in the Milliways sky, over and over with no end in sight, and it's beautiful because it's free.
She dreams of mountains, greater than the ones that repeat themselves out back, topped with the lovely snow she saw when she first arrived, and she can feel her feet grow cold. She dreams the mountains are covered with trees greener than neon highlighter, greener than fake Christmas trees, and she dreams she can see her breath in the air. Her cheeks sting and she climbs higher and higher until there is only a whiteness that is clouds and fog and snow.
She dreams of the sea, as blue and as clear as the sky, lapping at the edges of -- something, a boat, and of the sail, a huge white cloth stretched taut. She dreams it goes on for so long that the where the water ends is indistinguishable from where the sky starts. And she dreams she can put her hands in the water and feel the fish swim by, and watch as the seagulls pass overhead.
She dreams of cities, great gleaming buildings towering over her, and pushing by people who aren't still or rough like clothes racks. She dreams they say hello, smile, and wave, are tangible, are real.
And she dreams of being able to experience all of it for herself.
She dreams of Charles, and his poetry. She dreams of how he taught her of the outside world, how much she'd felt for him at the time, and how scared she'd been when the Dark Men had come to take them away. She dreams of Doc, and the bonfire. She dreams of Kédra, and how beautiful he was. She dreams of Gordon, and how much she wishes he were safe. She dreams of the wolf, and the feel of the wolf's fur on her hands. Of Persephone, and grapefruit juice. Of Mother, and the water gun.
And as she wakes, she dreams of Truman, and she dreams --
-- no, she knows --
-- she loves him.
And Ella goes downstairs.