John lobbed his phone onto the passenger seat, his mind dwelling on the dream he'd been so completely and lucidly immerged in.
These past few days he'd been pushing himself hard and he'd pulled into the side of the road for a half-hours shut-eye. That's when the dream had struck.
The images were beginning to fade as they normally do, but what he could still remember seemed so authentic, so powerful.
It had been set in some weird nebulous future. His boys; Sammy, taller than ever, Dean, his features hardened into a brusquer version of the cocky kid he'd been, yet still himself.
He smiled at the memory of talking with Sam, of clearing things up between them, of telling his youngest how sorry he was for the harsh words he'd used at times towards him. Telling them both how much he loved them.
They'd stayed together, his sons, and they seemed happy.
:
Then there was Mary. She'd been there too.
So beautiful, so radiant. His mind had projected her into his dream the way she'd been when he'd lost her. She and his sons together. His family.
:
As he turned the key to start the engine, he felt the sensations of the dream still enveloping him, warming his soul with their vivid reality.
He didn't want to forget; he'd keep bringing all the moments back up in his mind so as not to lose its trace completely.
Though he'd intended heading straight home, he felt the need for a beer, a cold one with a thick head of froth on top!
