It was around 11.30 pm, and insomnia was keeping him awake. James was gone, and that disturbed him. He got up and pulled a coat over his pajamas. The streets were deserted at this late hour. He needed to clear his head, to find something to do. The separation from James was hard to bear; he missed him terribly. So he decided to go out, simply to get some fresh air.
At around 11.40 pm, as he stood at the corner of his street, the faint glow of streetlamps lit up the night. An extremely bright white light caught his eye. Intrigued, he instinctively hid to observe. After a brief moment, he dared to glance in the direction of the strange glow.
He saw a young woman on the ground, appearing to have appeared by magic… Her long white hair was in disarray, her back was to him, and she couldn't see him, which was perhaps for the best. Who was she? How had she got there? Was it the white light that had brought her? But what on earth was that light? The questions raced through his head!
The young woman rose to her feet, visibly weeping, looking down at her hands with a distressed expression before weeping some more. What was he supposed to do? Call the police? What if it was all a mistake? What if it wasn't blood? What if she didn't belong here? Damn it…
He continued to watch her in silence, his heart beating wildly. She dried her tears, readjusted her glasses, and headed for the opposite building. She didn't seem to be from any other world than his. He would have liked to follow her, to understand who she was, where she came from, and what it all meant. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, perhaps out of fear? Perhaps he'd have acted differently if James had been there… He walked back, with some regret.
The next morning, he awoke with a jolt. James was lying on his stomach beside him. The sun's gentle rays were filtering through the curtains, lighting up the room slightly. He looked around the room, but his coat was gone. It had never been there. James had never left. He'd never been down the street in the middle of the night. He'd never met the young woman in the white light. Had he dreamt of her? What if James had really left and then come back? What if he'd really seen that woman? What if she was real? What if she'd really appeared in that white light? What if she was really covered in blood? What if she'd committed murder? All these questions remained unanswered. And that was fine with him. James tossed and turned in his sleep. He embraced him tenderly.
Dream or reality, he'd probably never know.
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