Phantoms
by Starhawk
She started awake, fragments of the dream dissipating in the lazy summer afternoon. Her memory chased them, trying to recapture the images even as they faded, but she was left only with a feeling of yearning and undefinable sorrow.
Another shriek emanated from the cluster of children weaving through the park in a frenetic game of tag, and she looked inadvertently in their direction. She smiled a little, envious of their freedom--they had no sad dreams, no unfulfilled wishes…
No finals to study for, her mind added, as she pushed her textbook off her lap. She stretched against the base of the wide-boled tree she had chosen as her study site, and her gaze fell on the splash of pink at her side.
She froze for a moment, then rubbed her eyes, certain she was seeing things. The dream came crashing back, overwhelming her with its suddeness…
She turned in circles, lost and alone and barely able to see in the dimness. She was outdoors, of that she was certain, but there was no moon, no stars--the only light was an ethereal grayness that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.
There was no sound that she could make out, either: the wind did not breathe through this part of the world, perhaps, and any nightlife was either silent or absent altogether. The only thing that distinguished this setting from any other was the scent that lingered in the air… a barely perceptible trace of roses.
She wasn't sure when he appeared; he was simply there, as though he were a part of the nothingness that surrounded her. The faint illumination avoided him, so that he stood in shadow, as always. As she noticed his presence, he extended one hand toward her, and she thought he took a step forward.
"Remember me…"
The words echoed in her head even as they faded, as his image did, disappearing into the darkness. It was a moment before she noticed the tears streaming down her face, and the delicate scent of roses intensified…
The vision released her, and she found herself shaking uncontrollably. She stared at the ground, feeling the world spin about her as she tried to relegate what she was seeing to the world of unconscious fantasy.
It occurred to her after a while to breathe, and she drew in one shaky lungful of air after another until the trembling calmed somewhat. The dream had been haunting enough before she had been forced to relive it in vivid detail, and now she wondered about her own sanity.
For there, lying in front of Cassie on the sun-dappled grass, was a single salmon-colored rose.