How January 21, 2002 should've gone.
I woke up gasping for air, my arms pushing straight out, which almost sent Billy flying against the wall.
“Stop it!” He grabbed the bedclothes and curled up into a protective ball with his back to me, armed for any further surprise attacks.
“I just had the most awful dream,” I said, still getting back my breath.
“What was it?”
“I dunno. I don’t want to say. It might come true.”
“Then go back to sleep. God!"
And I did just that, wrapping my right arm around Billy’s warmth, my hand resting over his heart in a pledge of allegiance.
“Stop it!” He grabbed the bedclothes and curled up into a protective ball with his back to me, armed for any further surprise attacks.
“I just had the most awful dream,” I said, still getting back my breath.
“What was it?”
“I dunno. I don’t want to say. It might come true.”
“Then go back to sleep. God!"
And I did just that, wrapping my right arm around Billy’s warmth, my hand resting over his heart in a pledge of allegiance.