Wicked Dreams

The big dark thing paused.  It remained still as though concentrating on the words and reading the strength of them through the scent carried in the wind.  And then, ever so slowly, it crawled back into the dark seclusion of the woods.  And then it was gone.

Paul stood frozen to the ground.  Sam beside him.  He wasn’t sure how many minutes, or was it only seconds, had passed.  But then he realized the woman was looking at him.  Not at him.  Through him.  Not through him as though he wasn’t there, but through him as though she could see all of his thoughts, his memories, his dreams, his prayers.  It took a moment for him to realize that he could see through her too.  He knew.  He knew something… some question was answered there in the cool wind that had now become a slight breeze, some question he had yet to even ask.  He couldn’t quite grasp it, couldn’t quite see it, but it was there.  And seeing the woman and dog in front of him like that, so close they were a part of each other, brought a sense of peace to his heart, to his mind, and to his soul.

* * * * *

Suddenly there was a sharp twist to his left arm.  Paul gave out a shout and abruptly sat up in bed. “What?  A dream?  No way!  That wasn’t just a dream. No way!”

He reached down and felt for Sam.  Sam was right there on the floor beside the bed licking Paul’s left hand.

“Did you wake me up, boy?  You really gave me a start!”  Paul ruffled the dog’s thick coat, thinking nothing of the leaves entangled in the fur as he gently pulled them free.