The Dream Cycle Three: Peaceful Slumber
By Ginger
She shivered, well and truly soaked to the skin. A cold, hard rain fell, a fitting end to a cold, hard day, rounding out a miserable week. At least it was Friday. She'd have almost two full days to rest. There had been little rest in over a week. Virtually none. She was so tired it hurt. So badly, in fact, it was starting to get to her. Not like her, she mused. She could usually take pain but this... this was agony... torture. If she didn't rest she feared she might lose her mind. And that would most definitely not do. Her life had little meaning or value of its own, but it did stand as a buffer between those to whom she'd inadvertently grown attached and oblivion. So there was really no choice in the matter, she needed to rest. She needed to rest more than she could recall ever needing anything before.
And that's what had brought her here, an all-consuming need. That need had made her turn left instead of right at the four-way intersection in the center of town to head away from, rather than towards, her home. It had compelled her to drive without stopping until she had crossed the bridge into New Jersey, and to keep right on driving, traversing the state south to north until she had simply run out of state altogether, ultimately stopping in this city on the banks of the Hudson River. Above everything else, it had forced her to finally acknowledge what the little voice in her head had been telling her for months, maybe years, maybe right from the beginning.
Although it had been raining all day at home too, she hadn't brought an umbrella. She had gotten into and out of her car in garages so it hadn't been necessary. But here in this big city parking was at a premium, so she had to walk several blocks in the driving rain. The old brick warehouse was the last of its kind in a neighborhood that had recently gentrified after years of neglect, when someone finally noticed that it was literally a river's crossing from Manhattan and featured a dramatic view of the skyline. Reaching the main entrance, she tried the door and frowned at the sight of the buzzer and intercom. Tacked to the door was a sign printed in brightly colored ink, which she squinted to read in the faint light cast by a nearby street lamp.
*Thanks to the incredible efforts of our wonderful friends and neighbors, and with the miraculous assistance of our guardian angel, we have been victorious in our struggle to protect this precious community resource! This time it's the developers who will have to look elsewhere! All yoga, dance, and art classes will resume on April 15th and we look forward to seeing you then!*
*Your friends and neighbors at the Jersey City Arts Council*
She sighed then turned to glance across the river at the scarred skyline of lower Manhattan, now defined as much by what was missing as by what remained. Shutting her eyes tightly for an instant, she attempted to reconstruct it in her mind the way it used to be but couldn't. Maybe she should live here, she thought, it would suit her.
Dipping into the pocket of her pitifully inadequate, drenched overcoat, she retrieved a small flashlight then walked around to the back of the building, which wasn't visible to the street with its persistent vehicle traffic and, even in this weather, occasional pedestrian. Slowly strolling along the rear wall and shining the light onto a row of basement windows, she was grateful if not surprised to find one with a large, diagonal crack in it. Sorry folks, she thought wryly as she stopped, placed the flashlight between her teeth, and hastily shrugged out of her coat.
*Looks like there'll be another chore for that "guardian angel" of yours.*
* * * *
It had been a long trek up five flights when she finally reached the door she needed to open in order to expose the threshold she needed to cross. The cavernous, mostly empty from what she could discern, building wasn't much, if any, warmer than the outside. The flashlight she once again held between her teeth was the only thing that kept them from chattering as she effortlessly picked the ironically simple lock on the large, imposing metal door.
Stepping quietly inside, she heard a soft sound that sent a current of warmth throughout her body. The room itself was warm. It must be heated separately, she thought as she closed the door gently behind her then switched off the flashlight she no longer needed thanks to the dim light thrown by a floor lamp in a far corner. Moving further into the room, she glanced into a darkened doorway leading to a bathroom, stopping there to peel off her coat, letting it fall to the floor before dropping her flashlight onto it, and stepping out of her soaked shoes. She heard the noise again and inhaled deeply, slowly turning and directing her gaze to fall upon its source. She expelled the breath, a tiny hint of a smile gracing her lips. The cold was already beginning to retreat. It was now within her reach, the rest she so badly needed. The peace she so desperately desired.
He lay sprawled on his back on the roomy mattress set directly on the floor. He had fallen asleep in his clothes, as she imagined he had on countless occasions, although he was barefoot, the button to his fly was undone, and his shirt was unbuttoned and lying open. Perhaps, she mused, he had started to undress when exhaustion had overtaken him. His left arm had come to rest above his head, his right arm on his chest with his hand directly over his heart. She smiled sadly when she noticed the item clutched tightly in it, a cell phone. Tonight he wouldn't need it.
*I'm right here.*
As she made her way silently to him, he murmured the word "breathe" for the third time since she'd entered the room then opened his eyes suddenly. They immediately widened with surprise, then fear as he watched her slowly approach him. That passed quickly, her rain-soaked appearance and peculiar demeanor registering as he foisted himself onto his elbows, a look of total incomprehension on his face as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. She could tell that he wasn't entirely convinced of his own consciousness; maybe he was still asleep, dreaming her. When she reached the mattress, he looked as though he were about to say something.
"Shhh..."
Silencing him, she commenced artlessly unbuttoning and removing her blouse. It felt good to be free of the clammy, wet garment that had clung uncomfortably to her skin. Her pants swiftly joined it on the floor beside her, leaving her to stand before him in her underwear. She shivered again, her skin retaining the damp from the saturated clothing she'd shed. He swallowed hard and made a move to get up but she leaned forward and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders, stopping him.
"I thought... maybe... I... should get you a towel," he explained sounding almost shy as he watched her hover, half-naked, above him.
"I don't need a towel," she replied, gazing knowingly into his eyes.
He inhaled sharply and made a slight movement with his head, maybe it was a nod, she wasn't sure, then shuffled over to make room and pull the covers back, tenderly tucking them around her when she climbed in beside him. She watched in contented silence as, without getting up, he shed his shirt and shimmied out of his jeans to join her in the warm refuge beneath the blankets.
They simultaneously reached for one another, slithering into an embrace. Feeling a chilly dampness against his chest, he pulled back just enough to unhook and remove her bra, without seeking permission because he knew it wasn't necessary. Then he pulled her tightly to him and, brushing aside her hair, looked at the spot from which his mentor had removed stitches the day before. He placed a gentle kiss to it then whispered,
"Sydney was right; it's healed up nicely."
She said nothing but nodded lazily against him. She had what she needed; to be with the man who, like her, had a past he couldn't seem to overcome and a future over which he appeared wholly incapable of exercising any control. This probably didn't change any of that but at least she... they... could rest. And so it began to overtake her: his warm breath against her hair, his heart beating rhythmically against her chest, his strong body surrounding hers, all lulling her into a deep, peaceful slumber.
# # # #
By Ginger
She shivered, well and truly soaked to the skin. A cold, hard rain fell, a fitting end to a cold, hard day, rounding out a miserable week. At least it was Friday. She'd have almost two full days to rest. There had been little rest in over a week. Virtually none. She was so tired it hurt. So badly, in fact, it was starting to get to her. Not like her, she mused. She could usually take pain but this... this was agony... torture. If she didn't rest she feared she might lose her mind. And that would most definitely not do. Her life had little meaning or value of its own, but it did stand as a buffer between those to whom she'd inadvertently grown attached and oblivion. So there was really no choice in the matter, she needed to rest. She needed to rest more than she could recall ever needing anything before.
And that's what had brought her here, an all-consuming need. That need had made her turn left instead of right at the four-way intersection in the center of town to head away from, rather than towards, her home. It had compelled her to drive without stopping until she had crossed the bridge into New Jersey, and to keep right on driving, traversing the state south to north until she had simply run out of state altogether, ultimately stopping in this city on the banks of the Hudson River. Above everything else, it had forced her to finally acknowledge what the little voice in her head had been telling her for months, maybe years, maybe right from the beginning.
Although it had been raining all day at home too, she hadn't brought an umbrella. She had gotten into and out of her car in garages so it hadn't been necessary. But here in this big city parking was at a premium, so she had to walk several blocks in the driving rain. The old brick warehouse was the last of its kind in a neighborhood that had recently gentrified after years of neglect, when someone finally noticed that it was literally a river's crossing from Manhattan and featured a dramatic view of the skyline. Reaching the main entrance, she tried the door and frowned at the sight of the buzzer and intercom. Tacked to the door was a sign printed in brightly colored ink, which she squinted to read in the faint light cast by a nearby street lamp.
*Thanks to the incredible efforts of our wonderful friends and neighbors, and with the miraculous assistance of our guardian angel, we have been victorious in our struggle to protect this precious community resource! This time it's the developers who will have to look elsewhere! All yoga, dance, and art classes will resume on April 15th and we look forward to seeing you then!*
*Your friends and neighbors at the Jersey City Arts Council*
She sighed then turned to glance across the river at the scarred skyline of lower Manhattan, now defined as much by what was missing as by what remained. Shutting her eyes tightly for an instant, she attempted to reconstruct it in her mind the way it used to be but couldn't. Maybe she should live here, she thought, it would suit her.
Dipping into the pocket of her pitifully inadequate, drenched overcoat, she retrieved a small flashlight then walked around to the back of the building, which wasn't visible to the street with its persistent vehicle traffic and, even in this weather, occasional pedestrian. Slowly strolling along the rear wall and shining the light onto a row of basement windows, she was grateful if not surprised to find one with a large, diagonal crack in it. Sorry folks, she thought wryly as she stopped, placed the flashlight between her teeth, and hastily shrugged out of her coat.
*Looks like there'll be another chore for that "guardian angel" of yours.*
* * * *
It had been a long trek up five flights when she finally reached the door she needed to open in order to expose the threshold she needed to cross. The cavernous, mostly empty from what she could discern, building wasn't much, if any, warmer than the outside. The flashlight she once again held between her teeth was the only thing that kept them from chattering as she effortlessly picked the ironically simple lock on the large, imposing metal door.
Stepping quietly inside, she heard a soft sound that sent a current of warmth throughout her body. The room itself was warm. It must be heated separately, she thought as she closed the door gently behind her then switched off the flashlight she no longer needed thanks to the dim light thrown by a floor lamp in a far corner. Moving further into the room, she glanced into a darkened doorway leading to a bathroom, stopping there to peel off her coat, letting it fall to the floor before dropping her flashlight onto it, and stepping out of her soaked shoes. She heard the noise again and inhaled deeply, slowly turning and directing her gaze to fall upon its source. She expelled the breath, a tiny hint of a smile gracing her lips. The cold was already beginning to retreat. It was now within her reach, the rest she so badly needed. The peace she so desperately desired.
He lay sprawled on his back on the roomy mattress set directly on the floor. He had fallen asleep in his clothes, as she imagined he had on countless occasions, although he was barefoot, the button to his fly was undone, and his shirt was unbuttoned and lying open. Perhaps, she mused, he had started to undress when exhaustion had overtaken him. His left arm had come to rest above his head, his right arm on his chest with his hand directly over his heart. She smiled sadly when she noticed the item clutched tightly in it, a cell phone. Tonight he wouldn't need it.
*I'm right here.*
As she made her way silently to him, he murmured the word "breathe" for the third time since she'd entered the room then opened his eyes suddenly. They immediately widened with surprise, then fear as he watched her slowly approach him. That passed quickly, her rain-soaked appearance and peculiar demeanor registering as he foisted himself onto his elbows, a look of total incomprehension on his face as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. She could tell that he wasn't entirely convinced of his own consciousness; maybe he was still asleep, dreaming her. When she reached the mattress, he looked as though he were about to say something.
"Shhh..."
Silencing him, she commenced artlessly unbuttoning and removing her blouse. It felt good to be free of the clammy, wet garment that had clung uncomfortably to her skin. Her pants swiftly joined it on the floor beside her, leaving her to stand before him in her underwear. She shivered again, her skin retaining the damp from the saturated clothing she'd shed. He swallowed hard and made a move to get up but she leaned forward and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders, stopping him.
"I thought... maybe... I... should get you a towel," he explained sounding almost shy as he watched her hover, half-naked, above him.
"I don't need a towel," she replied, gazing knowingly into his eyes.
He inhaled sharply and made a slight movement with his head, maybe it was a nod, she wasn't sure, then shuffled over to make room and pull the covers back, tenderly tucking them around her when she climbed in beside him. She watched in contented silence as, without getting up, he shed his shirt and shimmied out of his jeans to join her in the warm refuge beneath the blankets.
They simultaneously reached for one another, slithering into an embrace. Feeling a chilly dampness against his chest, he pulled back just enough to unhook and remove her bra, without seeking permission because he knew it wasn't necessary. Then he pulled her tightly to him and, brushing aside her hair, looked at the spot from which his mentor had removed stitches the day before. He placed a gentle kiss to it then whispered,
"Sydney was right; it's healed up nicely."
She said nothing but nodded lazily against him. She had what she needed; to be with the man who, like her, had a past he couldn't seem to overcome and a future over which he appeared wholly incapable of exercising any control. This probably didn't change any of that but at least she... they... could rest. And so it began to overtake her: his warm breath against her hair, his heart beating rhythmically against her chest, his strong body surrounding hers, all lulling her into a deep, peaceful slumber.
# # # #