by Ashley Barnett

Created on: October 28, 2007

Dream Girl

Beep. Beep. Beep. A hand appears from under the covers and plops down on top of the alarm. Then a head, with a mop of dark hair going in every direction, immerges. He squints towards the huge curtainless window but it's too bright and his eye lids pinch off the morning sun.

His bed is set at the south side of his loft style apartment. The east wall is consumed by three floor to ceiling windows. The realtor who showed him this apartment in the remodeled factory said it got great morning light. She didn't lie about that. He had fallen in love with the exposed brick and the open floor plan. The wood floor is old and rough. It had been painted black at one time but now all that was left of that paint was deep in the grooves.

Finally, after four and a half minutes of internal struggle, a foot sticks out from under the blankets. Followed by another. Then in one motion he is up and standing. Wearing nothing but a pair of light blue boxers he shuffles into the bathroom, opening just his right eye and only letting in enough light to guide his way, no more.

Twenty minutes later he immerges, showered and dressed. Each hair is exactly where it belongs. He is wearing a pair of black suit pants and a dark blue dress shirt, tucked in. Still feeling like his blood has been replaced by lead, he stops at his dresser and puts on a pair of black socks and his favorite pair of shoes. He grabs his watch and wallet and heads out the door.

He normally takes the stairs but today he leans against the wall and waits for the elevator. He checks the time. 7:15. He still has 10 minutes. Feeling like he could fall asleep right there. His head rests against the brick, eyes closed. He can almost feel sleep overtake him when the elevator door opens. He steps in and is lowered to the lobby of his building. He walks out on to the street and the cool air feels good, refreshing. He walks the two blocks towards his favorite coffee shop. As he approaches he checks his watch again. 7:19. Six minutes to early. He makes a stop at the magazine stand. Pretending to read a copy of Newsweek, he keeps one eye on the door of the coffee shop. Finally, he sees her, right on time. Coming down the street toward him and looking as beautiful as ever. She is wearing a dark gray suit and high heels. The jacket of her suit is unbuttoned exposing a silk emerald green shirt. He quickly pays for his magazine and makes it to the door just ahead of her. He holds the door open for her and smiles.

"Good morning" he says to her.

"Thank you." She replies.

He stands behind her in line, grateful that the line is long today. He pretends to read again, trying to think of something to say. He feels light headed from lack of sleep. The line moves forward.
"Beautiful morning today huh?" he squeaks out.
"Yes it is" she says smiling. He smiles back, nervously. Now what? The lines move forward again.
"Do you normally walk to work?" he asks.
"Yes, whenever I can. You?" she answers back. He gets excited, she has never asked him a question before today.
"Usually." He replies. Which is true. He leaves out the fact that he doesn't have to be to work for 10 hours from now. She reaches the front of the line, orders her usual, pays, and smiles at him.
"See you later." She says
"Maybe tomorrow." He replies before ordering his own cup. By the time he gets outside she is gone, disappeared into the crowd.

He walks the two blocks back home. Rides the elevator up to his apartment. Puts his coffee in the fridge for later. He carefully takes off his work clothes and climbs back into bed. Returning to his unfinished dreams.

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