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Mara

The man took a moment before he relaxed and smiled. “I’m Frey. I thought you were a part of whatever dream this is at first.”

He laughs, and I frown. So this isn’t a dream, then? Frey’s next question came too fast for me to ask that one.

”What’s your name?” The wheelchair creaks the tiniest bit as he leans forward for my reply.

”Mara Gobey-Hanad.” I practically shove in my question before he can ask another. “Is this not a dream?”

Frey shrugs. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Maybe we’re both dreaming the same dream, or maybe corridors in the realm of dreams connect, and we’re simply meeting each other in two separate dreams.”

This is like listening to Rosemary and Isaias converse. I’d just smile and nod when they tried to involve me, so that’s what I do now. “It’s an interesting idea.”

”Or maybe…” here he looks so earnest that I think he might actually be on to the truth, “a malignant force has kidnapped random people and holds us hostage here.”

I laugh. Until, that is, I realize that’s actually a decent explanation of what happened. “Wait, do you really mean that?”

@rose-colored-fancy

I’m not sure if I did Frey right; change anything you please 🙂