Last night I had a dream that we were running away. I was very ill, and every time I went to sleep I knew I could stop breathing. You watched me while I slept to make sure that I was okay. I woke up from bouts of agony to find your eyes watching me, sweetly.
We were hiding under a giant tree's roots, on the beach. It was sunny. Everything had a bright, beautiful, sparkling halo around it, and I wondered if that was just because my brain was full of the strange chemicals that come with dying.
I looked out to the shore and Puppy was there, sprinting up and down alongside the glittering waves. I WAS SO PISSED. She was wearing her fancy white crochet mittens, and they were getting all muddy.
