I woke from a dream in which I’d lost him. We’d been walking through a built-up urban area and he’d suddenly vanished. I looked down a side road to see if I could see him, but nothing. Vanished. I started calling out his name. Over and over, in a kind of wail. People stared at me. One woman said she’d go and look for him, soon. I woke then. Looking at my clock, I thought it said, 1.00 am but it was 12.00. I’d put on my lights by then and so left them on and dozed. I dreamt I was without him again. Another road but a rural one this time. I was crawling along it, before I realised that I could actually walk it instead. I saw a pile of herringbone coats like his, in the road. And a woman in the distance, teetering in heels, carrying a take-away coffee. I wasn’t distressed. The air was springlike and a milky sun shone. I just kept walking forward, to what I know not.
