It was weeks before he made contact again.
It was in a dream she was having. The kind where every trivial detail stands out in a nonsensical way.
She was walking through a house. One she had never, in reality, seen before but in her dream she knew it all too well. It had exquisite navy blue wallpaper with white ceilings and skirtings and every oil painting she passed felt personally picked by her. The sunlight flooded in and cast a golden hue on the wooden floors.
On closer inspection, she realised that the windows had all been broken out of their panes, and the lace curtains were all dancing around in the breeze.
And then, that voice, from somewhere behind her, “Find me”, it said.
She spun around to find that everything in the section of the house behind her had faded to night time. “W-Where are you?” she called.
“Worlds away. Moments apart.”
With that, she woke up with the concrete certainty that she would see him soon.
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