Mark Taylor

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Daily story, October 17, 2024

I dreamed about him nightly, for years, until I knew every wrinkle of his face. We never spoke in the dreams. Rarely did I even get close to him. But he was always there. After confusion, curiosity, and frustration, I began to feel safe. I had something to rely on, just as long as he was there.

One night he wasn’t. I dreamed of terrible things, the ground falling and splits in the sky. The next day I saw him on the street. We spoke for the first time. He said, I’m sorry, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else, I’m afraid I really have to go.