native Indians and what their conversations would have been like around a fire. We came up with a whole bunch of funny things, Peter made impressions of an Indian chief telling his tribe how he was out in battle when in fact he had been having some alone time smoking pot with his pipe with other chief’s nearby. The way he told it had me in stitches, I was laughing so hard. The conversation went on and lead to their clothing which led to costumes which somehow led to food. All of it in a light funny tone and Peter being hysterically funny. I even came up with some funny things. I wasn’t normally funny but Peter brought that out in me, it seemed so easy.
We talked for a long time it seemed. I told him about my family, that I too had a younger sister. I told him about my brother and how they would without a doubt get on.
We ended up lying down on the sand, looking up at the night sky and all its billions of stars. I lay cuddling into him, hearing his heart beat through the soft fabrics of his T-shirt. I had my hand on his chest, it was hard but comfortable. Fitting in like a puzzle in his embrace.
We lay there quietly for a while just enjoying holding each other in the stillness of the night that was surrounding us. I felt my eyelids getting heavy. Which was strange, seeing as it was a dream, could you really get tired in a dream? I fought the tiredness that was washing over me, as I heard a pop song, first distant but then it grew louder, I felt annoyed at it, it seemed to ruin the mood.
“Wish that music would stop.”
“What music?” he asked as he gave me a squeeze and as I blinked, as if in slow motion, then speeding up as I opened up my eyes again, I found myself lying back in my own bed. My alarm radio had gone off and was