The Perfect Dream

It was a gorgeous summer afternoon, everything was normal, and Harper Henderson was completely fine. Better than fine, in fact - she was perfect.

She was sitting at the corner table of her favourite coffee shop, the sunlight pouring in through the window and coating her in a gentle golden warmth. She was wearing her favourite dress. It was sky-blue, and the kind of light, flowy frock that you can only wear on sunny days like this one. In front of her was a cup of tea, just the way she liked it - two cubes of sugar and a splash of cream. She cupped the mug in her hands and brought it up to her lips, sipping slowly. It was just the right temperature, cool enough that it went down easily but warm so that it filled her with a cosy, fuzzy feeling as it went.

Her mind was rather foggy. She wasn't entirely sure why she was here, or how she got here. But that didn't matter. Thinking usually made things more complicated anyway. So instead of questioning, she relaxed, and tuned in to the sound around her. It was the typical noise you'd find in a coffee shop - footsteps, crockery clattering, coffee machines whirring, light chatter. They blended together to make a calming symphony of sound, not so loud that it was overwhelming and not so quiet that it prompted discomfort or awkwardness.

A feeling of contentment washed over her, and a smile danced upon her lips. She was here, now, everything was perfect, and so it would stay.

And then someone came into the coffee shop, and Harper was immediately disgruntled. For one, the little tinkle of the bell on the door felt out of place with the rest of the coffee shop sounds. It was a nice sound, sure, but it just didn't fit. For another, when she shifted her chair to see the stranger she was immediately conflicted. She had an odd familiarity, a comfort in her presence. But there was also a distinct wrongness about her, like she didn't belong here. She set the atmosphere of the coffee shop all out of balance. Harper creased her brow and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She didn't like conflicting feelings.

The girl scanned the shop before her eyes landed on Harper and she smiled, a warm, bright, full smile. She walked over and pulled out a chair, the scraping of its legs against the floor yet another out-of-place sound. She sat down and took a sip of the foamy chai latte in front of her, meeting Harper's confused blue stare with her emerald gaze of a million different emotions at once.

Harper tilted her head to one side, waves of strawberry blonde hair falling about her face. "Do I know you?"

Had Harper been in a sharper state of mind, she might have noticed the pain behind the other girl's eyes at those words, the teardrops threatening to form in the corners of her eyes. But instead, all she saw was a smile.

"Yes, you do. My name is Lola."

"Lola. That's a pretty name." Harper noticed her teacup was still full to the brim and took her first sip. She frowned. "I can't seem to remember you. Isn't that funny?"

Lola said nothing, the pain in her smile going unnoticed again. They sat in silence for a minute before Harper spoke.

"How did we meet?"

"At this coffee shop, actually." Lola stroked the smooth wooden table between them, a wistful expression in her eyes. "At this exact spot."

Harper looked back at her blankly. There was something there, teetering at the edge of her mind, but she couldn't reach it. Lola sighed and went on.

"I'd just been stood up, and you saw me sitting here, crying. You asked what was wrong, and we started talking.  We had so much in common, and we just went on and on, until a slightly grumpy waiter came over and asked if we were actually going to order something." She laughed, staring into Harper's eyes. "You ordered a black tea with cream and two sugars and I ordered a chai latte. We stayed and chatted until it started to get dark, and the shop closed. You lived - live - nearby, so I walked you back home. We kissed outside your front door." The expression on her face was pleading, begging Harper to understand, to remember. Both were silent for a few moments.

"That's a nice story," Harper said finally, a somewhat vague look about her. "Did you make it up?"

Lola took a shuddering breath, trembling slightly as though struggling to remain composed. A single, silent tear slipped out of her eye and rolled down her cheek. "No, it's the story of how we met, remember?"

"Oh." Harper's eyes flicked downward, and she started fidgeting with her fingers. "I don't understand."

Lola reached under the table and grasped her hands. "Harper, none of this is real." She said in a gentle voice. "You - you had an accident. You're in a coma, and this is all in your mind."

Harper stared blankly back at her. She couldn't piece Lola's words together, couldn't make sense of them.

"Harper," Lola said again, slowly, softly. "Have you noticed that your teacup keeps refilling itself? Or that my latte appeared out of nowhere?"

Harper rubbed her forehead. This was too much. Where was that sense of peace, here just a minute ago...

"Look at the people around us, Harper. Really look at them."

She did so, whirling around to view the waiters and patrons that filled the coffee shop with the mellow hubbub of noise. She could see them... but she couldn't, not really. Every time she tried to focus on their faces, they moved slightly, and became a blur again. She tried a few more times before making a noise of frustration and looking back at Lola.

"I don't understand," She said again.

"I know, that's okay. You don't have to." Lola squeezed her hands tighter. "I can wake you up. I can take you home. All you have to do is say yes."

Harper was silent for a long moment. The girl - Lola - had been nice to her, and her presence felt safe, familiar, comforting. But it also felt wrong, and out of place, and confusing. She didn't know what to think. She wished she didn't have to think at all. She looked around and let the scenery wash over her. This is my favourite place, she thought. My favourite drink, my favourite dress, my favourite weather. The feeling of contentment started to return.

"I'm sorry," Harper said, "but I want to stay. Everything is perfect here."

Lola smiled sadly. "That's okay," she said shakily, her face wet with fresh tears. She squeezed Harper's hands one more time before letting them go.

"I'll try again tomorrow."

"What?" Harper asked, but she was already gone.