(no subject)
To Malcolm's immense relief, the terrifying dreams have abated, and he's enjoyed a few nights of deep slumber. If there have been dreams, he's had no memory of them upon awaking. He was anxious at first that the nightmares would return, but today was the first day he cautiously allowed himself to believe that the worst might be over.
He collapses on his bed and, thanks to the lingering effects of sleep deprivation, is unconscious in seconds.
And dreams....of familiar streets. His home in Philadelphia. The old apartment. Anna's antique shop down the road.
And then, at last, Anna.
My god, it's her.
It's early morning, and Anna Crowe has arrived at her storefront, fumbling with her keys as she tries to open the door without putting down the awkward bundle she has in her arms.
Inevitably the keys slip from her fingers. Anna makes a strangled "AAARGH!" of frustration that is so perfectly familiar, Malcolm can't help but grin--even as the sight of her again is making him blink to keep the mist in his eyes from becoming something more.
And so he watches discreetly from across the road, enjoying the gift of being allowed to see her again on this quiet morning. Comfortable in the knowledge that, no matter how he came to be here, there is no way for her to see him standing there.
Any more than it's possible for him to see the shadow that is standing some distance farther away, watching Malcolm and Anna alike....
He collapses on his bed and, thanks to the lingering effects of sleep deprivation, is unconscious in seconds.
And dreams....of familiar streets. His home in Philadelphia. The old apartment. Anna's antique shop down the road.
And then, at last, Anna.
My god, it's her.
It's early morning, and Anna Crowe has arrived at her storefront, fumbling with her keys as she tries to open the door without putting down the awkward bundle she has in her arms.
Inevitably the keys slip from her fingers. Anna makes a strangled "AAARGH!" of frustration that is so perfectly familiar, Malcolm can't help but grin--even as the sight of her again is making him blink to keep the mist in his eyes from becoming something more.
And so he watches discreetly from across the road, enjoying the gift of being allowed to see her again on this quiet morning. Comfortable in the knowledge that, no matter how he came to be here, there is no way for her to see him standing there.
Any more than it's possible for him to see the shadow that is standing some distance farther away, watching Malcolm and Anna alike....