Nightmare

“Percival, are you afraid I might just disappear?”

“Are you afraid that one day you’ll hear nothing from me?”

“Are you scared that the next time I’m in the hospital, you won’t get a critical condition notice but a death certificate?”

“And when you see me again, it will only be a black and white photo?”

“Percival, remember your words well—go crazy for a lifetime.”

Percival had a long dream. Eulalia was struggling in the sea of fire, with scorching flames licking her feet. She writhed in pain on the floor, desperately pounding on the floor-to-ceiling window.

Her fingers were bloodied, and the glass was smeared with blood, marks of her struggle before death. Percival wanted to rush in and save her, but he couldn’t even get close. An invisible barrier kept them apart.

In his dream, the overwhelming heat blew against his face. He looked up at the sky, which seemed stained with blood. He knelt on the ground, crying his heart out, as if to drain every tear from his body.

He reached out to gr