Reaper.

The man was lurking in the darkness. He wore a fedora and a dark suit and was after me. His intent was to take my breath away.

In the dream I’m in a city. Its nighttime and I’m wandering lost, circling through alleys and narrow streets. I’m alone. I don’t know where I am going, or where I have been. I am just aimless in my direction, no destination in mind. It’s a waterfront city, like San Francisco, and I’m near the water. I can smell the sea air; feel the oily slick grime beneath my feet. It’s quiet, but there are cars in the distance and voices carrying on the breeze. I know the man is looking for me, and I know exactly what he wants. I am less frightened than resigned to the fact that he will catch me and I will not be able to get away. I don’t want him to catch me, I want to be able to keep breathing, but I know it’s only a matter of time and that he is out there, he will get me.

I turn into a wide alley, there is no urgency to my actions. I am calm, resgined and totally aware. There are warehouses on both sides with cars parked down the center. Dark cars. Empty. I notice there is no trash beneath my feet, and no discernable sounds around me. I can hear waves lapping on the other sides of the buildings, but they are not close enough to tickle my ears. The man is behind and above me. Walking on the top of the cars with a stealthy silence that is unsettling. I know he is coming, like a cat on padded soft feet that don’t make a sound. But I can feel him. His presence is everywhere, his energy overwhelms me and without a sound he steps down from the top of the SUV, like a giant bird he floats down in front of me.

His skin his dark, like a middle eastern and his eyes burn like coal. He says nothing, yet I know what he is going to do. He places his hands firmly but gently on my biceps and squeezes with the slightest bit of pressure. Not enough to hurt me, only enough to know that he is there. And then it happens; my breath is gone. It is pulled from me without a moments pause. And I stand there, staring into his eyes, unbelieving, unwavering, yet without surprise. He has done it; he has taken my breath away. I can only take short gasps. I plead to him with my eyes, with my mind. Please, don’t do this to me, let me breathe. I need to breathe. I want to keep breathing as long as I can. I don’t want to live my life in short gasps, I want to drink it in fully and completely. I stare into his eyes, beseeching and imploring, give me my breath back. Please.

And so his eyes soften. And he relaxes his grip. And the oxygen pours back into me. I suck in all the air that is around me in huge gulps. Tears form in the corners of my eyes and spill down my cheeks. I can breathe again. My breath is not gone; he has relinquished me from certain horror, from a slow and painful death. Without a word or a sound, he releases me, slowly turns and walks away, fading into the darkness, into the distance, without even thought of a backward glance. And I know he has given me this grace, this second chance to live.

My eyes fly open, and I take in my surroundings. The soft glow waxing around the curtains, the deep sigh of my dog next to me. I know I am home, I am back.

The reaper has not taken me this time. I have been saved. It was only a dream, after all. Right?