The electricity went out this morning.
I woke a little after 6 am, my hair tangled and my heart beating in a heavy staccato. Bump-bump, bump-bump. I had a nightmare, that had me all shaken-up and feeling sick in my gut. I remembered running down a long corridor, where the distance between "here" and "there" seemed to make no difference, and time and space "shifted" with every step I took. The ceiling was high, so high that it got lost in darkness, but when I looked up it felt as though it would crush on me any moment. The floor was made of stone, but my feet sank as though I was walking through sand, or water, or some other liquid that was... thicker and heavier. My footsteps echoed between the cold walls, sometimes roaring like thunder, other times as soft as the sound of silk gliding down a woman's skin. There was a mirror in the far end of the corridor. A mirror bathed in candle light, that glowed softly, reflecting my figure... Only it wasn't my reflection all of the time. For a moment there, a raven-haired woman graced the mirror, then liquidly flew into a blond with lips the color of lilacs. Afterwards there was no reflection. The mirror was empty, but glowing. Welcoming, but terrifying. Far ahead and only an arm-length away...
Then there was darkness. Deep, deep darkness that embraced me...
...and I woke up in my own bed, next to my silently sleeping husband. I looked at the cloak and saw it was early, o, so early. But I did not feel like going back to sleep. I'd had my share of nightmares for the night, thank you very much! So I pulled the covers off my body, laid the lightest of kisses on Michael's forehead, and got out of bed. Bast stirred in her sleep and opened her eyes. Have you noticed how strange a cat's eyes look in the dark? How good their sight is? When they fix you with their gaze, it can bring shivers down your spine... Although, in this case, after the dream I'd just had, knowing that I wasn't the only awake creature in the house was a small comfort. So, when I headed for the door and Bast followed in my steps, I did not tell her to go back to sleep. Instead, I took her in my arms and carried her down the stairs. To the kitchen. To the coffee machine. To that place where I felt in perfect harmony.
Bast jumped on the counter, stretched and mewed, and then leaped for the bowl of cream I'd let out last night. It all happened so fast, that I had no time to react, to reach out and catch the bowl.
Smack, it "howled", as it crushed into the ground, broken pieces and cream flying all around. Bast just "scowled", unhappy that her "price" has been lost. Cats are ill-tempered creatures by nature. And o so selfish. I scowled, because I knew I'd be in for a lot of carpet cleaning as soon as Michael left for work. What could be better in the morning, right? Who needs time for a long, long bath, when you could just buckle down to the task of cleaning after your cat? Sounds like fun, huh?
I was just getting ready to get all irritated and annoyed, when the most unexpected of things happened.
The light went "puff", and the kitchen was overflowing with darkness. The whole neighbourhood was, actually. It was just like a scene out of a Hitchcock movie. Creepy. Frustrating. A little "too close to home", after the nightmare I'd had.
I shivered and decided that the smartest thing would be to go back up to the bedroom. The unwanted domestic cleaning could wait a couple of hours. Right now, the only thing I wanted was to be as close to Michael as possible. To feel safe, protected. Cared for.
Yes, my darling wasn't getting any more sleep either. As Tracy Chapman once sang "O, the things people do in the dark..."
I think I must have bumped into a chair or something, for I let out a startled yelp that sounded just like the roaring echo in the dream. Bast mewed in question, wondering what's wrong with me and why am I stumbling into things, as though drunk. I'd have thrown something at her, if I'd been in the mood to look around in the dark. I made my way towards the stairs, and the bedroom, and my husband...
Michael met me halfway. He said he'd heard my yelp in his sleep and woken up. He wrapped his arms around me and I pressed my body into his, resting my head on his broad, muscular chest. Safe, I thought. Loved. As though he'd read my mind, he lifted my chin with his fingers and kissed me, like only a lover could. He kissed me and I melted into his kiss. His touch. His warmth.
The lights came back on.
Some days, I do believe that love can make miracles happen.
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