Sweet Dreams

The rich aroma of food and wine hung in the still, night air. Laughter and chattering exuded from tables which spilled out of the small restaurant and onto the courtyard where the band stamped their feet as they strummed and plucked at Spanish guitars. And there, under the glow of the string lights, he stood, waiting. Holding out his hand for hers. She floated towards him, radiant. Her body draped in red, silk, her curls flowing over her shoulders and down her back. He took her in his arms and for a moment they stood in silence. The music stopped, the diners held their breath, and then- with the strum of a guitar, they began to dance. The song was fast and passionate. The world blurred as he spun her away, before pulling her so close that she felt his chest pressing against her as he breathed. Their audience was mesmerised; they moved as if on ice. As the song ended, they finished with a flourish. He leaned her back, holding her effortlessly, her hair cascading to the ground, cheering and applause rang out as he leaned in to kiss her...

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP…

She blinked at her tired reflection in the bathroom mirror before quickly unlocking the door and running down the creaking stairs. She grabbed the broom and started jabbing at the alarm. Smoke had filled the kitchen and crept into the hallway. Pushing open the little window above the sink, she began aggressively wafting a tea towel.

Phil appeared in the doorway, brows furrowed.

“Can’t you even make some fucking chips?" He looked at her a second. "Are you useless?”

She said nothing, just took the tray of blackened chips out of the oven and tossed them into the small chrome peddle bin. Phil pushed past her and pulled out a beer from the box wedged between the bin and the fridge. He cracked open the warm can, spraying it over himself, and dribbling it onto the floor.

“You’re so lucky that I put up with your shit.” He said, as stumbled back to the living room. She heard the click of a lighter and the slurp of beer. She took the bag of chips out of the freezer, spread a layer onto the tray and placed it into the oven.

The cool, wet sand felt like silk under her feet. Her fingers were intertwined with his. The setting sun threw pinks and purples across the calm water. Looking out towards the horizon, feelings of endless possibilities swelled in her chest, a future of love and passion. He pulled her towards it. Casting off her robe she dived in, exhilarated by the sensation of the water on her skin, the taste of salt on her lips. He lifted her, she wrapped her legs around his waist while gazing into his eyes. The only sound was the rhythmic shush, shush, shush.. As the sea lapped against the shore..

She took the chips out of the oven, slid them on to a plate and carried them through to the stuffy living room. Phil sat slumped in the sunken leather sofa, the Xbox controller in his hands, headphones on. “Ketchup.” He demanded without taking his eyes off the screen. She returned a few seconds later and found a clear spot on the coffee table to place it down, and then went back up the stairs and into the bedroom. The bed, hid a worn, pink carpet and took up most of the room, barely allowing enough space to squeeze around the sides. The broken, slatted blind was always left shut, leaving the exposed lightbulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling to illuminate the room.

She lay in a bed of soft white sheets. The balcony doors were open wide, letting the curtains flutter as the sounds from the town below drifted in on breeze. Moonlight lit the room, cocooned in his arms, she was safe, protected from anything and everything. He was looking down at her, lovingly tracing the contours of her face with his soft fingers..

“Go and get more beers!” Phil shouted.

She padded down the stairs, pulled on her coat and stepped her socked feet into her sliders. Outside, she didn’t notice the screaming coming from the baby in the flat next door, she didn’t notice the smell of stale urine in the concrete stairwell, and out on the street she didn’t notice the drivers honking their horns and swearing angrily at each other.

His hand gripped hers tightly. The vibrant city through which he guided her, was buzzing with life. People milled in and out of cafés, shops, and art galleries. He led her past market vendors selling colourful fruits, and marble slabs on the ground from which jets of crystal water shot into the air, leaving behind a fine mist which dusted her face. She could smell coffee and sweet exotic flowers. The voices around her spoke in a rapid, yet flowing language, foreign and exciting..

She didn’t notice the smell as she passed the greasy kabab shop, or the chatter from the Turkish barbers. She didn’t notice the man at the bus stop having a heated argument with a pigeon, or the old lady with the shopping trolly, rummaging in a bin by the burger van.

She sat on an intricate wrought iron chair at a small table outside a café. The table was spread with a white cotton cloth, and on it fresh black coffee steamed in a glass mug next to a sugared pastry. She squinted from the glare of the low sun. She was alone. The town square was bustling. She scanned the crowds for a moment before her eyes finally rested upon him, he stood across the square, waving to her.

“Come to me, mi amor,” he called, his voice echoing from all directions. She rose from her seat. Her smile growing into a joyful laugh as she moved towards him, faster, and faster, running to his embrace.

She didn’t notice the people shouting to her as she stepped off the curb.

“Mi amor..!” He called again. She was running through the crowds; she could almost touch him.

She didn’t notice the number 64 as it rumbled along the busy road.

She ran into him with such force, but he stood solid and strong. He held her so tightly and whispered to her, promises of an everlasting love. And then, he kissed her, and as he did so the world around them seem to melt. Euphoria surged through every cell in her body as she too felt herself melting away, away to a place of beauty and eternal love, held forever in his arms.