SD:H Whisper

I slice back into the hallway, the seam quickly closing behind me without even a scar or mark of any kind. It feels darker in the tunnel than before. I can't say for sure that it is darker, but something about the surroundings has a dark feeling to it, like the darkness has sprung to life and is now curiously observing from a safe distance. I start to walk down the sidewalk, wondering where I might see her this time. I remember my car. Just like that I notice the car up ahead in the fog. I continue walking, checking my pocket now, and sure enough finding keys.

The interior feels safe and comfortable, it's the kind of comfortable with a leather edge that accepts no unwanted visitors. I flip on the headlights and they pierce almost unnaturally well through the fog. I drive at a leisurely pace through the still empty streets. I try to think back if I have ever noticed a crowd in here or if it has always been only a select few that can enter this place safely and reliably, and for any significant amount of time. I also realize that with the way time works in dreams, the heist could still be going on, having gathered most dreamers to the rewards it advertises for those that can be victorious. All I know is that she and I certainly have more important, or at least more pressing, matters to attend to.

I see a promising side street that heads deeper into the forest and take it. Trees now line the road in a kind of comfortable creepiness as the road turns to dirt and inclines slightly. At the crest I see her sitting in a field. It is unclear if she is waiting patiently for me or if she has been asleep, but when the headlights shine on her, her heads lifts and she gracefully climbs to her feet and walks over. Something about her motions indicate I should not take the gentlemanly approach this time, and I wait inside with the car idling as she opens her own door and climbs into the car. As soon as the door opens I hear the wind howling outside, with no indication except the sudden unexpected burst of sound. She gets in silently, eyes conveying her appreciation for picking her up, although I could tell my timely arrival was expected, even if the concept of timing itself was a bit fudged.  She is noticably silent, now waiting for me to speak. At a loss initially for what to say I lean in, kiss her gently on the cheek, and in the same motion begin whispering in her ear. 

I whisper some of my thoughts from the day and I can feel her face heating up as she listens. Minutes pass like this, with a dozen scenarios shared, until I finally pull back to read her reaction. She is looking down still, intentionally not meeting my eyes "I thought you said we had to be careful, that this was televised?" "That part was kept off screen, don't you worry, for just you and I to know."

"Where you wanna go?" She asks after having composed herself. I look all around, it is all dark now and unfamiliar, the kind of unfamiliar darkness that makes even the path you came down feel almost like it has been consumed by the night. "Honestly I am having trouble seeing anything outside this steel cage, would you mind?" She smiles broadly "Not at all, I'll drive." 

While it was not clear if we could safely get out at that point, neither of us tried. Instead we each just tried our best to seem to be innocently switching seats whilst having very little room to maneuver. Several minutes go by and we finally manage to separate after squeezing by each other. In the passenger seat now I kick the seat back a little. "Let's take some dirt roads, get lost a bit. I don't think anyone's looking for us tonight anyway." She nods and takes some road, I hardly notice the passing of the trees outside the windows, but do recall a moon now backlighting things which I had not noticed before. I feel the pull of the twists and turns, but my focus is on sharing the thoughts of the day, week, year, and essentially anything and everything I had considered on my own in her absence, that time fading now into a sweet relief like the pain of a stubbed toe. Sometime through the long drive I consider how fortunate it is that she can multitask, conversing with ease about topics far, deep, and wide, all the while still navigating perfectly the dark windy road. My consciousness fades somewhere along the way, reminding me of a similar trip to a family friend's farm and barn as a pre-teen. While only half awake I honestly utter these last words: "I know this is not a dream." I can't say for certain what it is, something like a dream to be sure, but not one for certain as well. I can feel her next to me now, and for now that is enough. Some nights knowing for certain what something is not is sufficient progress, and it feels like one of those nights.