In Death We Part

A wide-open expanse of sandy hills lay before her scattered with intricately gnarled cacti that were made brilliant with their large blossoms in bright, beautiful reds, yellows, oranges, and pinks. A calm breeze blew a wisp of hair across her face, and she found herself sitting comfortably upon a large, flat orange-pink boulder. A slightly stronger gust of wind softly billowed her hair, which lightly tickled her face. She turned to look to the west as if beckoned to turn there. Off in the distance, she saw the figure of a man atop an enormous, majestic horse. Both were silhouetted against the beautiful red and orange of the sunset above the brilliant wind-carved artistry of rock that spread as far as the eye could see in every direction. The colors blended perfectly with the strands of her hair that came into her vision. The rider gracefully veered the horse and began to come toward her. She saw immediately that he wore a cowboy hat—she was sure it was black although his entire form matched it in the silhouette. He rode up beside her and dismounted fluidly, perfectly—like silk floating on a breeze that was somehow wholly masculine. His entire face was shielded by the shadows that shouldn’t be there, except for his eyes. She wanted to move those shadows away and felt that she might be able to do it with her touch if only her arms would move. She looked up into the soft blue of his eyes as he stretched a hand out to her. She regained control of her limbs only then and was about to lay her hand in his when she was swept away from him by a howling, deafening wind. * * * Brianna opened her eyes suddenly and stared blankly at the wall; for an instant, seeing the image of his eyes on it in the sandy-colored paint. She abruptly sat up and looked around. Jamie was in the double bed next to her; the bed next to them was unmade and empty. Her eyes dropped to the nightstand and on it was a notepad and pen. Still haunted by the image in her dream, she grabbed the notepad and flipped it past the front page that had writing on it to a clean sheet. For the next two or three minutes, she drew and shaded furiously. When she finally sat back, she exhaled sharply. In her hands was the image of the shadowed face and eyes she’d seen in her dream. Her heart beat fast with the adrenaline now trying to escape her body. Quickly, she crossed the room to get her drawing pad from her bag and flipped back to a previous drawing. The same eyes stared out at her from the older piece. It confirmed what she had already known—it had been Matt in her dream.