Vanishing

– “So there’s this story, it keeps playing in my mind. This girl. There’s always a girl. I almost recognize her. She’s hidden in the shadow of a dream, but she’s familiar.
“I don’t know; maybe I met someone like her once, maybe I met her. But it was like I could see inside her. It felt warm; there was warmth there. Something about being that close to someone, seeing someone on that level.
“And I feel so cold now, being so far away from her, from that familiarity.
“I could see her eyes, they were reflecting the light so I could see them. They were calling to me; they were calling for me. I wanted to get close, but I was scared.
“There was, a warmth, it was nice. I didn’t want to shatter it. So I just stood there, watching her. Her eyes were like a child’s, innocent. She almost smiled in the darkness. She wasn’t scared.
“She took several steps toward me, and I moved. I didn’t question it. I didn’t think about moving. I just moved towards her. Then she vanished. And I was the one left, standing in the shadows.”
The timer goes off. There’s the buzzing.
“Time’s up. Maybe I should pay you more for your stories.”
“My stories? That was a dream, not a story. Maybe I just needed to share it.”
He shakes his head as he takes out his wallet.
“Maybe it should be the other way around and you should pay me for listening. But they are your stories. Even dreams are our stories. They come from our experience. From our desires and our fears.”
He smiles as he watches him pull out a twenty.
“Put it away. Maybe I did just need someone to listen.”
“Look, if I don’t pay you, I won’t feel right using it. It is your story. I will use it. And maybe you’re tired of people vanishing. I get it.”