The Night Visitor

morning

I wake in the sweet spot, the warm burrow of duvet and sheets after a long night’s sleep and feel a tender embrace encircling me; a hand on my cheek, the other stroking my ear, toes gently scratch and tickle the underside of my foot, and arms pull me in close.

‘Oh Laura,’ I sigh as a hand traces the ridge of my shoulder blade and then another foot follows the outline of my calf. My skin prickles with sensations. I am cocooned in the warmth of the sheets, between a layer of tufty wool and a layer of fluffy feathers. I feel so alive, so happy in this limbo land between dream and awake. I don’t want to move. I feel such a deep soul warmth.

But when I open my eyes, she is gone. Did I just imagine all this? There is nothing and no-one there, only my arms encircling a space that is empty. No matter. I am smiling. I am happy. I am sure she was here. So very sure, and yet there is no sign of her – only my heart bearing testimony…

 

 

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