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My breathing was heavy, I didn't know how to react. I'd spent many sleepless nights thinking about this, yearning for it. All I had wanted was a mere sign, anything that would jog my memory of this image so I could recreate an art piece which meant so much to me that I had cried for weeks after it went missing. There it was, staring me in the face. An intricate dragon on a bed of clouds, etched into Shans shoulder blade forever. The expression on the dragon's face was what I could never remember when trying to recreate it. The emotions that I had represented in the dragons expression was of pain, loneliness but fierce and determined at the same time. I swallowed hard before carefully replying, "I thought I lost him forever, I was really upset when I couldn't find him." "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't realise you were attached to it." Shan replied quietly without turning around. "Anyway, could you start at my lower back please." He requested, clearly not bothered. I took a deep breath and. Arms flailing, her fingers come into contact with some kind of net, yet she can’t see it. Sensing her panic, I plant the thought in her head.It’s a dream. Just a dream. Relax.That’s easier suggested than believed, but the situation is so unreal that Wendy buys into the suggestion, thinking, even as her fingers scratch at the invisible net, ‘A dream. Yes. That has to be it.’Just a dream.Knowing what happens next, it’s important for me to reinforce the notion. (You don’t think this is a first, do you? A first in eternity; that would be a new one.) Four dwarves come running round the corner of the house. Wendy screws her eyes shut, then opens them again. “You’re trespassing!” one of the littl’uns says accusingly, pointing up at a CCTV camera nestling under the eaves of the house.The sight of the creatures settles things for Wendy. An invisible net and the arrival of four dwarves – what else could it be but a very peculiar dream? She momentarily wonders why she can’t waken from it, but.
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“Take good care of her boys, she’s been very good and worked very hard this Christmas.”“Which makes this Christmas different from any other time how, Mr. Tony?” Donnie murmured as the door closed, cutting off sound and the flow of cold air from the outside.More backpacks had taken more time than Tony had allowed for, so he found himself slipping into place beside his wife, Francine, after the service had already started. The priest didn’t glare at him, knowing which side of the family donations to the church came from, but Francine did.“So happy you could join us, Anthony,” she whispered. “What’s the matter, did your little whore make you lose track of time?”Tony Juliana bit back all the words that wanted to come rushing out of his mouth, knowing that if he gave voice to any of them, he’d give voice to all of them, and at a volume that would fill the cathedral.“Nothing to say, Anthony?” she goaded him.“After Mass we will speak of this, and not before.” Tony turned and looked at her.

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