DISCLAIMER: Inception © Christopher Nolan

PLOT: Post Film / Ariadne dreams; fleeting memories. 1 shot.

"I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand-"

...

There was golden sand beneath her feet; she wore no shoes. The surf crashed just beyond, casting golden spray – shimmering. Wind tormented her dark hair. She knew the place; it was Cobb's. That man - now more a haunting memory.

Beyond her vision, somewhere just behind, she could hear laughter; ripples over the surf. Cobb was there with his children - if she could only turn, just see . . .

But the golden glare kept her fixed – flashing. She felt a weight in her fist.

Cobb had his family; Mal was at rest. So what did she have? Memories. Memories that altered everything. Visions of creation - and the people who had shared in it. The dream. The weight against her palm. She had that.

Somewhere along the thought, the roar of spray, she recognized a presence at her back. Calm and patient. A soft shadow fallen heavy across her, teasing like the breeze. Somewhere she recognized the feeling, the feeling from that dream - the memory. If she could just turn . . .

But the golden sheen held her; gleaming. If she could only remember . . .

There was golden sand beneath her feet. It shone across the shore, the tide licking at her toes - she wore no shoes. There was a weight against her palm, the sand whispering through her hair. The surf crashed just beyond, the spray glinting, blinding. In the light -

There were faces in the gleam. Memories churning in the golden foam. She could see his eyes shinning back, dark and soft, a rueful smile subtly splayed. She was staring up into a calm - some glen where she could steal away . . .

And she remembered the comfort at her back, remembered who stood there . . .

And his mild tone, a tint of amusement -

"Wake up."

..

Ariadne came awake. She sat up in her bed - her palms empty, just the memory of sand. In the dark of her room she placed her head in her hands. Haunted dreams. Memories.

Edgar Allan Poe -"A Dream Within A Dream".