The Pittsburgh dream

She couldn’t sleep. She was so tired and things had gotten so complicated that her mind could find no rest. Her body was restless. Outside, trains never stopped strumming over the rails, whichever direction. She thought of taking one, but she wanted to go nowhere, not this time. This was home, sort of.
She thought she’d better go downstairs, where there were so many beautiful things to look at. “The kiss” poster, the drawings of old fossils, the neat kitchen with the empty fridge, except for that bottle of rosé champagne that they were saving for the last day.
She slipped out of bed and stepped down the stairs. It was cold and she was naked. She put her coat on. She sat on the armchair and looked around the living room. She lit a cigarette. The moon was asleep. The street’s orange dim was barely coming in through the blinds. She loved the place: the comfortable disorder, the tidiness and the love that every object shared with others; the pictures of his grandparents, Rolling Stone’s magazines on the floor, old records, incense ashes, the strong smell of coffee and cigarettes.
She loved him, she always did. His friendship was precious to her. But they always seemed to scratch pieces out of life, in order to be together. No complains, they were always the best days. At times, tough, it was hard to be apart.
She felt her life was closing the circle. The end of the tunnel was near.
Despite the tough times she was trying to escape from, with the fury of her love for life, she felt save in his sanctuary. Monsters would not come here.
She moved to the sofa and lied down. She wished he was awake, she wished he’d come down and that they’d played some music and talk, so she could get lost in the light of his gray eyes and forget she was not free yet. But he was sound asleep, she could hear him snore, and she didn’t want to disturb him. She had done enough already, ruining their first contact in years with her tears, breaking down in front of him during dinner, talking about that other man.
She wanted to sleep, she wanted to be fresh in the morning, she wanted to enjoy the few days they had together. Because in time they would forget once again that what they shared was love, not only romance. And she wanted to make the most of it.
His eyes opened in front of hers, she could see them even tough they were not there. A peaceful bliss crossed her heart, slowing down the beat.
She felt half asleep. She wanted to go back upstairs, now that she was ready to relax. She wanted to take his hand and kiss his cheek and sleep by his side. But she was drowsy now and it seemed like a big effort, one she could not overhaul.
The coat was big but didn’t cover her legs. Her throat was frozen and silent, her muscles stiff. She thought of herself a snowflake and only wanted to float away.

She dreamt she was in the highest balcony of a dark tower. She was naked and couldn’t move, tied up to a pole in the corner, with big rough ropes. Her skin was pale, her lips broken, with a few streams of blood going down her neck. There was a monster with bloody eyes and stinky hands. She was shivering out of fear of another kiss. The monster looked like that one other monster she had to face once before, inside the icy cave where the yoga instructor told her to go, telling her that it was her secret place.
The monster opened its mouth close to her neck and she moved her face away. The monster gripped her by the hair and forced her to look at its eyes. In horror, she felt its thick and disgusting tongue licking her face. It felt like hell. The monster wanted to play with her body. It touched her breasts with angry fingers, pressed them hard until she cried.
“Why are you doing this to me?” She screamed.
The monster looked at her as not understanding.
The moon was up, majestic and red. The wind was blowing harsh and cold. She could see the city lights, down there. She could hear the happy laughter of a young girl. She wanted to be her. The monster abruptly opened her legs and stuck one of its big fingers inside her. The long nail cut her like a knife. She felt like fainting. Blood was running down her legs. The monster roared and stole her breath…

Then she heard the footsteps, coming down the stairs. She felt he was staring at her, maybe for a few seconds. She felt save. She wanted to wake up and ask him to take her to bed, make love to her, love her. But she thought she shouldn’t do anything more, say anything more. Because she was so empty and tired that she feared her own voice.
He took a blanket and softly covered her up, carefully, as if not wanting to disturb a happy dream. He went back upstairs.
After a while, she found the strength to follow him up.
The monster was gone and her friend made life significant and beautiful, even if only for a while.