Waves crashing against the rocks, sending white clouds of foam floating in the air. The water chasing her feet and quickly retracting itself back, back to the deep. She watched the perfect round ball of fire, disappear on the horizon and she knew, she knew she was home. She was where she wanted to be. Free. Free from all the negativity, free from what she used to call home. Free from the abuse, the labor, the nightmares. She was with the man she loved. Cared for. Honoured.
He was walking towards her and then stopping. She looked away for a second and could see the ocean retracting again, not coming back this time. She looked back at him and he was floating in the water. Face down. She tried to scream but nothing came out of her mouth, she lost her voice. She tried to run but the further she ran the further he drifted. She fell down and couldn’t get back up.
Mila opened her eyes and sat up straight, her heart pounding and her breathing heavy. She looked around the room as if confused about her surroundings. It was just a dream. She fell back onto her pillow and took a deep breath, blowing the loose piece of hair out of her face. She threw her legs out of bed and wrapped herself in the light blue, silk gown that was draped over the chair. She picked up the paint brush and dipped it in some yellow paint and slowing forming the outlines of the orange circle she drew the night before on the blank canvas.
She’s been having the same dream for two weeks. Mystery man is starting to get to her and there’s no way for her to stop. She can’t remember his face and she wants to, so bad. She drops the paint brush on the used newspaper and steps back to stare at her half-done creation, putting a yellow painted thumb in her mouth and biting her nail.
The dreams seem so, real. Unlike anything she’s ever dreamt about. Who is this mystery man. The buzzer at the door makes her jump and she brushes her hair to the side with the half-painted hand. She opens the door but to her surprise there’s not a soul in sight. She looks down and a pink envelope is neatly placed on the ‘welcome’ sign. She looks from left to right down the hall but there’s no one in sight. She picks up the envelope and closes the door, putting it down on the table and staring at it while a frown rests between her eyes.
After what seems like an eternity she picks up the envelope and pulls out the card. A ginger cat with a light pink hat is printed on the front of the card, Mila smiles. She opens it and frowns at the two words written inside of it.
“Happy Birthday”
No indication of who it’s from she shoves the card back in it’s envelope and drops it on the kitchen counter.
“I have no time for games, I have a painting to finish” she scolds at the card and walks back to the bedroom.
The Writing Gypsy 