Dreaming of Yesterday

Tags: lovers, dream, wish, consensual, twenty something

Bryan and Jamie reunite but is it a dream or reality? All characters are twenty-something+


I slept through most of Saturday and heard, in the silence of Sunday’s darkened morning a knocking upon my front door. At the bottom of the stairs, a silhouette stood behind the glass panes of my heavy oak entryway. I trudged down the flight of steps carefully. Counted each thud of my foot and concluded that I’d reached the last one. When I tumbled forward, my eyes were half closed and I landed hard against the door. The figure jumped in fright though never left the stoop. I peered out, straining at what I saw was a woman. Her long blond hair peeked out from her hooded sweatshirt and I couldn’t see any features of her face or body.

She appeared harmless enough so I unlocked the door and invited her in. I rushed to the kitchen and wrapped some ice in a ziploc storage bag, held it to my head and realized who the person was standing just outside my kitchen.

“I apologize. Where are my manners?”

I glanced toward her and held out a hand.

“Aren’t you one of -“

“No. I mean yeah. I used to be her friend. I haven’t seen her in years, since school.”

“How have you been? Come. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.”

She began, “I am glad you still live in the same house or I’d have nowhere else to go. I’m fine. Surviving life, you know?”

“All too well. I just returned to town and this place a month ago. Some of my stuff is in boxes in the living room.”

“I have the clothes on my back and what’s in this knapsack. The rest of it was too torn and tattered to take along. I would go shopping but I ran out of money when I bought the plane tickets and paid for the taxi here.”

“A grandmother I never knew I had died and left me this house, a sizable trust fund and a car so if you want something I’ve got you covered. There’s a few bedrooms I’ve kept as they were upstairs. Take one.”

“You’re too kind. I’ve wanted to shower for the longest time but I don’t have clothes to change into.”

“No problem. There are robes behind the bathroom door upstairs, you can grab a shirt or pants of mine for now. I’ll bring you shopping too once you’re settled in.”

She stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. I stood, holding the ice in my hand and led her to a bedroom.

“It has its own bathroom, so you can have privacy. I have one on the opposite end of the house and downstairs. Feel free to pick out a shirt or jeans of mine before you go in there. If you need anything, I’ll be back in my room changing out of my designer sleepwear.”

I gave her an exaggerated gesture, pointing towards my torn jeans and muscle shirt. I had a week’s worth of stubble and desperately needed a shave. She looked me over for a moment and followed me into my bedroom, smiling when I gazed into her eyes. They were tired but precisely as I recalled. I showed her the shirts I had and my jeans, the better ones.

“I’ll wear these.”

She said, carrying them in her arms. I watched her cross the hall to where she’d be sleeping indefinitely and sat on the edge of my bed. I tossed my clothes into a hamper beside the door, stacked a pair of jeans, a buttoned shirt, socks and boxers atop my bed, carried them into the bathroom and closed the door.