The dreams. They’re so vivid in the moment but never linger into her waking hours. She’s only been able to hold onto a few details. She can remember darkness and then light. She can remember a voice…or voices. And a name. There’s a name. She can close her eyes and see a mouth making shapes and forming sounds. But she can’t hear it.
Ever since that first night of the dream she’s felt different. Not bad. Actually the opposite. Actually pretty good, all things considered. The light in her dream. The voice. They had been soothing. Reassuring. She could remember that.
But something was different.