A/N: Inception does not belong to me. Although it is the reason for the creation of this piece.
Ode to a Memory
They would meet once a month.
Sometimes to talk.
Sometimes to listen to the silence.
The fact that they were there, together, comforted them where loneliness could not.
Other times they would dream of a maze.
She would build a grand cathedral. With ancient spires and stained glass windows.
She would be all seriousness.
Until her soft laughter tingled throughout the cathedral.
It would, of course, be the gargoyles that made her laugh.
He would build abstract, impossible things.
Symmetrical stairs. Triangular windows that wound themselves up buildings like a vine in a fairytale.
But, of course, he wouldn't be able to resist putting in his signature architectural piece.
The penrose staircase.
She would shake her head at that.
It was the difference between them.
Her love of the old and the mystical.
His love of the impossible and the irrational.
It was what made them draw together, like magnets, to the same place.
Every month.
Sometimes, whenever the thrill of dreaming wore of, they wouldn't speak at all.
But neither would they listen to the silence.
And every once in a while, during those meetings, they would decide to go to the beach.
They would leave the dreaming device behind.
Forget about it.
Relish the beauty of being alive.
But it wouldn't be like an average date.
There would be no umbrella, no suggestive sunscreen moments.
They wouldn't even go when the sun was shining.
It would always be empty.
A stretching, endless landscape.
She would breathe in the cool, brittle air.
He would watch the orange horizon.
Its perfect symmetry. Its sheer impossibility. Its erotic song as it danced with the graying clouds.
She would let her lips curve into a smile.
One meant just for them.
They would offer the other their hands. Pull the other towards the drifting waves. Let their toes feel the salt and the sand.
Dance the ocean's song until the sky couldn't tell the earth from the stars.
It would be incredibly real.
A postcard for the moments that ran away from them.
For remembrance.
It would be the reason why they would keep their hands close to their hearts.
He would say.
Never solitary.
Intertwined.