"Dreams Have Eyes"

Leaves falling. Colored leaves -- red and yellow. Deep and beautiful. These aren't just fall leaves. They're the Autumn leaves from which all others were shaped and colored. I'm on the Massachusetts Turnpike amid the foothills of the Berkshires. I drop down the off-ramp like an eight ball in the corner pocket, like I'm rolling off a table, like I'm falling off a log....

I wake up on the floor. Twisted my arm. Get up. She'll see. To the bathroom. Take a leak. Wash hands. Take a drink. Water's soapy.

Go back to bed...Nah, not yet.

Step downstairs, quietly. Can't wake the kids.

Slide the door to the deck back...slowly. Shoot. Gotta fix that.

Bare feet in the snow. I don't care. Flurries falling on my hand. So sharp...so...ephemeral. No rhyme or rhythm...it just falls.

I'm on my knees now. So cold. What was I thinking? I want to go back. To the Autumn. To the fall. Where everything is ... perfect. Where there's not so much pain. Where what you see when you close your eyes is what you see when you open your eyes.

She's here. I can't see her but I know she's there. Her arms are crossed and she's shaking her head. She's saying something. Something about frostbite, about losing my toes. She's right, of course. She's always right. Usually. She was right on the day we met, when I told her she was lucky she found me that day, besieged as she was by that sad collection of geeks and losers when I slipped in and held her eyes long enough that the rest slunk off and disappeared into the bar, and I told he she was lucky she found me. And she said, with this twinkle in her eye, she said, no, there was no luck at all. It all happened the way it was supposed to happen. Meant to be, she said. I laughed. But she was right.

I want to scream. But I don't. I won't.

I'm flying a kite on the beach. Chatham. Cape Cod. White houses, The ocean is choppy. The kite fights me. I fight back, pulling back, letting out a little line then yanking the line like I'm setting a hook. The wind comes steady, then in gusts, a slap in the face. The kite dips and I run until it catches an updraft and I sit, digging my heels into the sand. Got it. I could do this forever. A dog runs by. Golden retriever. Bumps my knee. I trip, and fall. I let go. The kite shivers, shimmies and shakes. It's gone.

She's grabbing my shoulders. Pleading. I can't move. She pulls harder, cursing. Very rude. Can't talk that way in front of the kids.

I fall. I'm on my back.

Look at that sky!

The snow, falling harder now, lonely white crystals in a black night sky. The frozen breath of an unseen god. Oh, please.

Hard to believe these tiny, lonely specks join together into something so thick, so strong.

So cold.

I'm moving. Sliding. My head hits the floor. She's begging now. Is she crying? Really crying? I didn't think she...

I rise. Stumble, grab her shoulder for support. She lifts me up. I go to hug her. She stiffens.

Dreams have eyes, you know. They're watching. Like a suspicious lover, they know when you're true, and they know when you've strayed.

Forgive me.

* * *

What do you think? Click the envelope below to comment, or email me.