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    Summary

    “Did you?”

    “Did I what?”

    “Ever dream of me?”

    Laughter.

    “No, no! Never. I’m not that sentimental. Besides.” He pauses, like the first blue clouds at dawn. "You are more than anything my dreams could have made up."

     

    Here, in this home with barely anything in it, how the love runs down the walls like paint, how heavy it is in the beams that hold up the ceiling, how it’s flowing even now in the water pipes, and filling all the empty spaces, just like furniture waiting to be uncovered.

    Language:
    English
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