In her dreams she is a shy angel, a fiery passion kept shut. The air leaves her side and she can’t breathe. The rain that surrounds her always is falling, pouring from the sky and the fog swallows her. She waves a hand in front of her face, feeling the eerie silence of muffled laughter and distant memories. A face, her face, pushes through the shadows, a mirror in a lost world, and pulls her into the sky. She’s a rainbow, high above the clouds. Everything is crisp and clear and she can see for miles. A song plays in her head and she’s lost in the moment, shooting like a falling star into the darkness below. The white dress she wears that once hugged her body now tumbles over itself and constricts around her, merging with the churning sea crashing above her head. As she reaches up and takes her last gasp of air, an eagle flies down and lifts her to the treetops, high in the mountains. There is snow and she shivers. Her breath is misty in the cold air. She feels her blood thinning. Her hair falls into frozen clumps of string at her back. Her eyes close for the first time and lets the gusts float through her fingers. She dreams inside a dream but it’s so subtle she can’t grasp the truth of it. Her hands clench, her muscles burn. She pinches herself. An old man is dealing her cards and she had a heavy brown coat around her shoulders. A kiss on the cheek, a slap to the face, and a taxi speeds through the sly city. “Grand Central, please.” They’re the only words she speaks, even though she wants to scream. Time slows down. Raindrops stop in midair. A car door slams. She’s on a rainy street in the middle of the night, but she can’t feel the drops that pound down on her as she runs for shelter. She passes a couple walking under and umbrella. His arm slides gently around her waist and she smiles up at him. Brown eyes that she’ll never forget freeze into hers and she doesn’t want it to stop, she doesn’t want it to end, she doesn’t want to leave, but she sees his mouth three words, hears his soft voice whisper, “Come with me,” and she shakes her head because she doesn’t know what else to do. Now she’s flying again over the snow and treetops, gripping the jacket around her, feeling the dress whip around her legs. The waves are crashing again, breaking over her head. She’s pulled down from the weight of the coat, the weight of her arms, her legs, her body, the world. An eagle cries somewhere in the vast blue orb and it’s sunny. The grass is wet with dew. She’s lying in a field of daisies. There’s a slight breeze and the dress ripples and dances over her legs. Birds are chirping, insects buzz around her head, someone is singing in the immense valley. The world is deafening and she calls out to anyone who might be listening, anyone who wants to hear her story, and suddenly everything is silent. Only frogs croak in the dark swamp beyond. It’s snowing, it’s raining, and she’s sweating. The single light dangling from the ceiling snaps off. It’s dark. Her only company is the creaking of a heavy door slamming, and she’s alone.