A Quiet Little Walk
Rachel sat by a stream, warm although she sat underneath a shady tree. A woman of indeterminate age sat beside her. She had long hair coiled atop her head, a bright reddish-blonde, and sapphire sharp eyes. She smiled at Rachel, a slight downturn to one side of her mouth. "You know me."
As in all dreams, the knowledge was already there for Rae. "I do, but I don't know your name."
She smiled, lines creasing the corners of her eyes and mouth. "Most knew me as Mary Margaret Buchanan. To some, I was just Gran." She peered at a flock of birds passing by, each carrying long black strings in their beaks. "They're carrying letters. Don't worry, they'll drop a bunch for you."
Rachel sighed. "I hope they hurry. It's so hot out."
Gran looked back at her, sight sharp as if cutting through layers of wool. "That's because they fly so hard. He's made me proud, you know. He finally found love. I kept telling him it was just as important as all his smarts. But I couldn't stop him from getting hurt." She looked at the soft swell of Rachel's stomach for a moment. "It's good that your first is a girl. It will soften his heart, show him how to love his own son. Show him he always has more to give. Are you ready for this?"
Rae huffed a little sigh. "No. I want it with all my heart, and I fear getting it wrong. Will I ever be ready?"
"Not if you know what's good for you. And don't think any two will ever be the same. You'll know your greatest joy and deepest pain through them. You'll fly and sink right alongside."
The sun dappled through the leaves, making sharp patterns on Rachel's jeans. "What about the birds?" She watched the older woman shield her eyes against the bright light, searching the skies.
"They'll be back. They have a place to land. It can't all be water, all the time. Sometimes you have to be the rock, the anchor, the mainland. They'll give you their feathers if you keep them safe while they're not in the air." She leaned back on her hands. "Do you dream in color, girl?"
Rae looked confused. "Doesn't everyone?"
The sky turned a leaden, oppressive gray and the green leached from the grass and tree. Even Rae's clothes looked like they bled their color out. The only remaining color was the bright blue of Gran's eyes. "Some people lose the color in their life, and their dreams have soft edges." The color came back, like switching on a colorized film. "He has sharp edges, so bright they can cut. You get to soften them enough so other people can see them. Your heart can make the edges bearable, even if it makes you bleed." She stood up. "Keep color in your dreams, Rachel. Just remember to blur the edges a little now and then. Don't worry... My grandson will keep you sharp."