Dear Mister Sandman

10/24/23

In the night she heard a rustle from near her desk. Fiona sat up, noticing a shadow-y, distorted figure sitting at the table. Slowly she climbed out of bed, quiet as a mouse and approached him. Gently resting her hand on his shoulder, she crept into his view, taking in the full features of his face.

He had beautiful mocha-caramel skin with inky black tattoos placed here and there. His hair was jet black and both sticking up while in a fringe crossing one of his eyes somehow. His eyes were the color of hot whiskey and hellfire, golden amber almost. He had slight stubble and - oh, he was smiling at her and staring her right in the eyes. "Hello, Miss Fiona. It's good to see you properly, the mirror did no justice of rendering your face properly."

She smiled at him, tilting her head, "What do you mean?"

He hummed, looking away for a moment before he returned his attention back to her, "The mirror is like a...what do humans call it? Phone screen?"

"Like FaceTime?"

He grinned and nodded, looking toward her with a smile, "Yes, quite so. Like FaceTime." He reached toward her, a hand resting on her shoulder, "You've grown since I've last seen you. Do you remember it? You were rather young, so I suppose not, you were merely a baby. You said you liked my hair," he smiled, "You've changed a bit since then, emotionally and intellectually, I mean."

She tilted her head, looking confused. As Fiona gazed around them, she noticed the blurry, blue-ish haze around them. Everything looked softer, the sharp edges now calm. She returned her gaze to him, "What is this?"

He smiled, huffing out a laugh, "I was wondering when you would ask. This is the mirror realm. It's also known as Nevermore. Most people, without permission from the realm itself, can't come and go without a pass."

She gulped and nodded, then slowly shifted her gaze to her mirror, looking into it. He gently touched her shoulder, anchoring her while she looked at the galaxies swirling where her reflection would normally be.

"In between realms. That's why it's all...wonky."

She nodded in return, looking away for a moment before turning back to him, "So you're the sandman? The keeper of fantasies, weaver of dreams, creator of nightmares? Sandman is five and a half feet and wears eyeliner?"

He smiled and shook his head, "Yep, that's me. I'm actually five foot seven inches, thank you. And I like my eyeliner." He patted her her cheek, "Now it's time for you to wake up, before you forget how to. I'll see you around."