What in the hell? I thought to myself. That wasn’t there before! Not only was my foot throbbing from the impact of striking the suitcase, but once again, my breath was catching in my throat as fear seized my heart. Something isn’t right, I thought. Too many nights have been interrupted with these nightmares, each of them different but somehow connected. When I wake from them, something odd takes place in my reality. This time it’s the suitcase, last time it was the bottle of mouthwash that mysteriously appeared on the bathroom counter. Maybe I’m losing my mind. Perhaps all of the stress over the last year has finally taken its toll and I’ve snapped. Maybe I forget small details like leaving the mouthwash out or packing a suitcase and leaving it at the foot of my bed. But why? Why are the things that seem to manifest out of nowhere in my reality tied to the horrors of my dreams? Drifting back toward a sleep deprived unconsciousness, my last thought was I’ll be sure to call someone for. Imogene and I were seated between Duncan and Paul and I had Duncan on myright hand side. He leaned over and quickly outlined the plot of the operabefore the performance started. As the lights went down and the musicstarted, I surrendered to its voluptuous charms and allowed myself to beswept away into a world of glamour, love and heartbreak. Tears were soonbeading my eyes and Duncan reached over, took my hand and gave it a gentlesqueeze. He continued to hold it until the lights went up for theinterval. I didn't object!I really enjoyed the opera performance and was eager to ask Duncan moreabout it once the relay came to an end. I therefore acquiesced to hissuggestion that we go to the bar for a final drink almost withoutthinking. Being seated in a brightly lit bar was a whole differentexperience to being in a darkened auditorium, and I was a little nervouswhen I noticed a few people looking in our direction. "Don't be scared,"Imogene whispered. "They haven't read you; it is simply.
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