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Proof-reader: Mike Kelley *** kisses***

Cheerleaders: Terri and Kit and Jon ~~~snargles~~~

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Chapter 1

She was floating, floating on her back in what felt like… warm water.

Once when she was young, only twenty-two years old, she had a two-week vacation in Jerusalem. Peter had invited her along and paid for the whole trip including a tour to the Dead Sea. The water was almost impossible to swim in because it was so saturated with salt. All she could do was float. To be able to move around, she had flipped over on her back and paddled her feet and legs. She remembered that the water had been close to the same temperature as her body, so if she closed her eyes she almost had the feeling of floating in mid air. It had been intoxicating. A once in a lifetime experience that gave her a feeling of being safe, being cared for; as if she was floating in her mother's womb.

The realisation surprised her. She was not afraid! In fact, she was feeling quite safe and more content than she had felt in many years. Perhaps more so than in her entire life.

There was the face again. She smiled in recognition, though it rather annoyed her that she could not quite focus her eyes. She squinted and tried to force her sight to obey, yield under her command. But every time she thought she had caught it, the face floated away. Long dark hair… strands of raven silk… woman's hair… the eyes… the eyes of a man. Many things seen and unseen rested there, lurking just below the dark grey surface. The eyes like water reflections; observing and aware pools of kindness held her, caressed her. She felt like a deer trapped in the headlights of a car, unable to flee. Mesmerised, she was no longer sure she wanted to escape.

She tried to speak, wanted to ask for a name. So many questions rested within, but her mouth was no longer under her command, her tongue no longer under her will. Suddenly, she heard words floating from her lips, words that had never rested in her mouth. Thoughts she had never thought, entered her mind. So many years that she had lived, with the person she wanted to be. So many women she had acted and tried to become, but never succeeded in doing it well. She must dare to just "be", with memories of the child she once was but never became. Dare to let life choose, and dare to say yes.

- "Yéni ve lintë yuldar avánier, ar ilyë tier undulávë lumbulë. Sí man i yulma nin enquantuva?" She was speaking words she did not understand, did not even recognise her own voice. Chanting the words she should not be able to articulate yet they felt right. They felt like they belonged to her. (Translation: The long years have passed like swift draught, and all paths are drowned deep in shadow. Who now shall refill the cup for me?)

***

She woke up to the sound of her own voice, unfamiliar and unaccustomed words still rolling off her tongue. She had dreamt again.

This was unnerving. While peeling the shrimp and placing them in the bowl with lime marinade, she kept finding herself smiling while thinking about the man from her dream. Now she was sure it was the face of a man that kept recurring in her dreams. In a way, it bugged her. Was she so starved for love, her body so hungry for attention that she had to dream up a lover? Would the lovers in her dreams eventually become younger, more handsome, more…?

"I'm being pathetic!" she spat, annoyed with herself. Shrugging, she tried to refocus on the task at hand.

While the charcoal burned to a nice ember, she uncorked the bottle of red Cabernet Sauvignon she had brought with her. She knew she was not supposed to mix wine, or any other alcoholic beverage for that matter, with her current medication. Nevertheless, she had decided to treat herself to one last bottle of her favourite wine. What harm could it really do? So, she poured herself a glass of ruby coloured pleasure and instantly dropped her nose into the glass. The wine had an intense bouquet of Cabernet along with spicy oakiness and a cherry nuance on top. On the palate, it was exceptionally well balanced, having a pleasant texture with modest tannins. It amused her how she today without effort, could properly name and describe the heart and soul of a wine. Peter had been a demanding and impatient teacher, and she had remained an ever-patient student. I guess it is like riding a bike, once you have it; the skill stays with you forever.

Just as the shrimp was ready for the grill, it began to rain. Slowly at first, but after a few minutes it gushed down. The coals hissed and popped as she manoeuvred the grill under the protection of the porch roof. By the time the veal chops were done, she had developed quite a bad cough. This was not how she had planned this evening. The feeling of loneliness, emptiness crept close until it had wrapped itself around her.

She had managed to save most of her dinner from being completely soaked. Now she was trying to get back into her previously cheerful mood. Things never or seldom turn out the way you have planned them. This was a lesson learned by life. She set the indoor dining table instead, and sat down, filled with a new determination to try to enjoy the wine and the food. As the wine bottle grew emptier, the headache from earlier in the day increased and she got up and grabbed a couple of the Darvon® pills that she found among the rest of her medication.

***

She was cold and wet. Her head pounded fiercely and she was captured by a nauseating dizziness. With an effort, she pulled herself up a bit. She badly needed to throw up. After what seemed like an eternity of heaving and vomiting, she tried to get to her feet, away from the nasty remnants of her dinner. Slowly she realised that she was outside, standing on hands and knees on the lawn behind the house. Yes, she had been on her way to her car to… to… to get something. She did not remember what though. She understood that she needed to get inside, and quickly. She was chilled to the bone, shivering uncontrollably.

The sound of her own coughing made her afraid that she was starting to develop yet a new pneumonia. That pneumonia, which would count as the third one this year alone. While trying to fight the waves of nausea that once again fell over her, she clutched the grass and the dizziness increased as she was slowly getting up on her two feet. She took a couple of staggering steps, steadying herself against the wood panelling on the back of the house. Dry heaves raging her body. Badly needing to vomit again, she turned and bent away seeing the ground closing in way too fast as she with a muffled cry hit the dirt. Then there was nothing.

Chapter 2 --