In my dream, I ran frantically through the woods.  My strides were short and choppy-my feet not feeling like my own.  The sun shone, though very little broke through the dense carpet of fog.  It was only the gaining footsteps sloshing steadily behind me that confirmed I was being pursued.  I looked back trying to discern who or what was chasing me but, only swirls of thick mist trailed behind me.  I stumbled, catching my clumsy feet on the sprawling tree roots-fueled only by the panic that shot adrenaline through my veins.

With my pursuer close on my heels, I broke through to a clearing, gaining speed on the level terrain.  The fog lifted just enough but, not in time for me to see that my feet had run out of ground.  I skid to the cliff’s edge trying desperately to stop my forward momentum.  My feet slipped off the edge; left, then right-gravity dragging my reluctant body with them.

I clawed violently at the air hoping something, anything, would find its way into my hands.  Before the fog engulfed me in to its misty grave, Alex appeared; the terror evident in his eyes as he reached for me, calling to me.  His long, straining fingers brushed the very tips of mine as he watched helplessly as the openness swallowed me whole-dropping me over the ocean swept rocks.

I woke to greet the darkness-heart pounding from the dream.  It was blazing hot in my room so, I climbed out of bed to turn the ceiling fan on.  I was unable to shake the dream and get back to sleep for a while, so I lay in bed shuffling through my play list.  The night was still and silent.  No wind rustled the leaves, no storm brewed in the distance to illuminate the sky, not even the usual hoot of the resident owl stirred the night.  But I didn’t feel alone.  An eerie feeling that I wasn’t alone had me quickly reaching for the lamp.  Nothing.  I breathed a sigh of relief, laughing at my own paranoia.

It wasn’t until the next morning that I noticed it.

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