Visitation

Visitation. You appeared in my dream last night. It was a writer's award ceremony of some kind, and you were to be honored there in some way. The place was crowded, and I didn't want to be there, but I wanted to see if I could catch a glimpse of you. I took a position along the railing on the second floor so that I might better survey the lobby below. I looked for you. It had been many years since we'd seen each other. The last time was at your book signing, when your first novel came out. I was excited standing in line waiting to see you. You looked very much the novelist - composed but intriguing. When I got in front of you, you smiled and stood up from your signing table and we embraced. You said, "It's you." I said, "You did it." Now, I am searching the crowd for you. As I look down directly in front of me, you look up. Our eyes meet and we recognize each other instantly. You are wearing a silver gown. Your hair is different. But your eyes are the same dark Spanish eyes I fell in love with when you were just eighteen.