~ Snow fell everywhere.
I couldn't see far, the huge flakes obscuring everything around me. There was no breeze, but the tiny crystals turned and swirled in the air. I stood, motionless, not sure what to do. I wasn't worried, even though part of me knew I should be. I had no idea where I was.
An image formed in front of me, and I stepped closer. A young man was leaning over, speaking softly. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could see his lips moving. It wasn't so odd that I couldn't see who he was talking to, the snow was falling too quickly and too thick to see much. But it was odd that he wore nothing but a pair of pale buckskin pants. It was freezing out, or it should be, and his chest was bare except for a few strands of beads, which were barely visible under his braids. Each braid hung nearly to his waist and were tied by leather and fluffs of white.
"Hello?" I took a step forward.
The man didn't answer, didn't even react. I couldn't hear anything, not even my own breathing, so he should have heard me. The man stood slowly and turned towards me, but there was no reaction. It was as if he couldn't see me at all.
I smiled politely and waved. "Hi. I'm not sure where I am, could you....."
I jumped when he walked towards me, and his face came into full view. His features were striking. Sharp features in a warriors face. He wasn't familiar, and I tried to step back, but my body wasn't moving.
I gasped as he stepped right up to me. But his body vanished before he could run into me, disappearing into tiny flakes that mixed with the snow. Snow that wound around me and stopped. Everything was suspended, as though time itself had stopped. I squinted and leaned forward, plucking one motionless flake out of the air.
The tiny flake melted, the drop of water running down my fingers and into my hand. Another drop melted, and another, and soon the snow was gone, and I had to cover my head with my arms to keep from getting soaked as rain started to fall. More tiny droplets fell and I shook my head, trying keep dry in the sudden downpour.
I shook once more, brushing the water off my face, and felt myself falling. ~
I hit the floor hard and landed on my back, my legs tangled up in my bed sheets. A light mist of water sprinkled over my face, and I looked up at my window and blinked. It was half open with the curtain twisted and wet, flapping lightly in the breeze. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, wincing at the pain in my shoulder.
"Sweetie, you up yet? Tea waters on!" Homers voice called from downstairs.
I called down, "Yeah, I'm up!" Sort of.
I rolled and kicked the sheet off my legs, then jerked as my dream sifted through my thoughts. I tossed the blankets aside and pulled the window closed, keeping the spring rain out. Running around my bed, I reached for my desk, yanking drawers open. I found my paints and an unused canvas and started painting.
After a few moments of frenzied painting, I stopped. "Why can't I remember you?"
Frustrated, I glared at the painting. Tiny flecks of white and off-white on a swirl of light blue. There was snow, I could remember that, but there should be a face. But I couldn't remember what the person looked like at all. "Grrrrr." I tossed my paintbrush down. I always remembered my dreams, that's where most of my paintings came from.
"Well, I guess I'll finish you later." I tipped the canvas down and cleaned up in a hurry. I'd already taken too long to get downstairs. Hopefully my tea wasn't already cold.
I ran down the stairs and Homer laughed as I rushed into the kitchen, nearly bumping into him. "Don't worry, I left the kettle on instead of making you a cup." He handed me an empty mug and patted my shoulder.
"Thanks." I turned to grab the kettle off the stove, and watched my grandfather walk away. His hair was in two braids...
"Braids." I murmured. Okay, that I could remember. But nothing else.
"Is there something wrong?" Homer picked up a section of newspaper, but didn't open it.
"Oh... uh. No, nothing's wrong." I pasted on a smile and poured myself a cup of hot water. I grabbed the sugar and headed towards the table. I could tell by the look on his face, that my grandfather did not believe me.
"So... nice beads, where did you get them?" Hoping to distract him, I pointed to the tiny strand of beads hanging from the small braid at his temple. "I don't remember seeing those before."