Wanderings

        I started my dreaming this morning by helping my dad usher at the old church (the one that burned down the year after N and my wedding.) He gave me some small golf pencils and a few pads of paper. As I walked back through the hallway I moved to be in the sun as it came through the windows.  I noticed that one of the pads had writing on it, so as I walked I pulled off the sheets that were all ready written on. I couldn’t make out what they said, as it seemed to be in Greek or Russian. I went around to the other side of the church, but found my way blocked by a load of office furniture. I had to make my way through it, and over some of it to get to the hallway that lead around the back. I left the written sheets on one of the desks, figuring I could come back later to pick them up and put them in the trashcan, if I could find one.

When I arrived at the choir side of the church I handed the usher there the pads and pencils. He said they didn’t need help as they’d double booked this mass and forgot to get anyone for the earlier mass. I smiled and, remembering the office furniture I would have to climb through, slipped out the side door to walk around to the front entrance.

There was one slight problem with that. I found myself in the middle of a shopping mall walkway. I turned back, and the church was gone, replaced by a row of white painted cement bollards and a huge partly full parking lot. I walked towards the parking lot, scanning it for my car. It was not in sight. I decided to get out of the heat and headed for a nearby café.

Something struck my back and I stumbled forward catching my wet still beating heart as it burst from my chest. I wondered why I was still standing. N walked up and offered to rip her own out and put it in my chest. “But then you wouldn’t have one,” I looked at mine and it wasn’t bleeding or anything, I carefully placed it back into my ruined chest. “I think mine is going to be good to go, bruised it a bit but it’s okay.”

Before I got my ribcage closed up around my heart, it stopped beating, but I didn’t tell N because I didn’t want her to worry about it. But then again, I guess I didn’t need to worry, she was busy severing her spine by swallowing a broadsword. “So we can both be undead,” she explained.

I had to turn away, I could deal with my own blood, but not hers. “Why would you do that?” I asked, shocked. N would never do that, she’s a complete pain wimp. That was when I realized that this person wasn’t really N.

Ad astra per technica,

FF