Safety

You come visit me in my dreams, in that big, old house. Not the first one, but the second one that was shaped like a barn, you cooking dinner and sipping wine; me making salad and setting the table for eight in the kitchen, after which I sit in front of a roaring fire, settling down with a good book while the boys play chess on lamp lit couches. Then, it’s Christmas time, and we are fussing over decorating the house perfectly, fresh cedar garland with holly berries wrapped around the deep wooden staircase railing, making sure there are just enough presents for everyone. While we wait for them to arrive, a snowy backdrop hovers outside the glittering window panes. You appear in the hallway that has golf green felt carpet on its floor, your whole body shimmering like a jellyfish in an aquarium, and your sister stands beside you with the same smile as you, one that is brighter than the white lights that rest on the mantle. Even though life brought you a lot of pain, you are always happy in my dreams, which comforts me. It could be the end of the world, but I am safe, and will always be.