The feeling is universally known. That feeling after waking up from a delightfully delightful dream... drifting awake dillusional... doubting discernment... suspecting serendipity to stay for the duration of the day.
Tavia ignored the repetitive plees from her mother in the kitchen demanding her to wake up every five minutes. The dream had basically ended at this point anyway... She did not have enough time to return to the world of the narcolepsic.
She imagined the boy waking beside her, greeting her with a look of pure adoration.
Her dream had been so detailed. It was not a boy she knew. Not a boy she knew well, at least. She worked to remember the beginning of the dream... But to no avail. She resorted to bits and pieces.
She had been sitting upon a sandy surface... a beach... a few yards from waves' rolls.
Goosebumps suddenly crept up her skin... crawling from the small of her back to the roots of her loose hair. Tilting her head slightly she saw his hands moving behind her... braiding her hair. Another of those universally known sensations... hair being tenderly stroked and guided into delicate designs... especially by those whose touch is treasured anyway. The sun began sending her vibes of warmth as the braid fell down her back and two large but harmless hands rested upon her relaxed shoulders. They gently slid down her arms and extended fingers through her own, continueing to lift her to her feet. All was light as a feather. He led her to the edge of the water, leaping as though gravity was nonexistent.
Glancing at her with a face she could not remember, he pulled her below the water's surface. She breathed just fine... as though lungs were intended for water submersion. He led her by hand across the ocean floor.
Tavia's mom called her to breakfast.