Music was everywhere, filling up the air like hoarfrost covers the ground on a cold February morning.
The tune was strangely familiar, the cadence of an old tune never quite forgotten.
I'm lying on a carpeted ground, stomach up, eyes squeezed shut while I slowly dig my fingers into the soft grass. The tune is familiar, but the comfort I would usually receive is replaced by a dark foreboding thickness in the air.
The shadows press on my ribs, stealing my ability to breath like an anaconda.
I'm so scared, terrified actually. My heart flutters fast against my chest while the struggle for breath continues.
Finally, I have to open my eyes. "Quick, like a bandaid," says the voice inside my head.
Snap.
There's nothing.
The pressure is gone. I slowly push myself up to my feet. The sky isn't crowding, as I originally thought, she is giving me space, smiling at me with a bright blue sky, like a proud mother watching over her newborn.
As far as the eye can see the grass goes out, looking velvety and soft from all angles.
At first I thought myself alone, drowning in misery, but now I see a man walking toward me.
He's tall, like a basketball player, powerful but not a bodybuilder, blonde hair curls around his neck setting off his pale skin and vivid, Caribbean-blue eyes.
The soldier tips his cowboy hat at me when he approaches, a friendly smile lining his lips.
This man is the sun, radiating protectiveness and safety, I want to close my eyes and bask in it.
He's reached me now—please come closer—he takes my delicate hand gently in his big ones, bringing it to his lips. All I can do is stare like a deer in beautiful, marvelous headlights.
"You kept me waiting a long time ma'am," said my soldier.
I stand there, an "I'm sorry" on my lips without knowing in the least bit what for. But one thing's for sure, this man will be hard pressed to ever wait for me again.
Come closer.