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Alina and Aleksander often shared dreams. It was a delight to find that their souls fit together as easily as their bodies did. On this night, as on so many others, they had fallen asleep after a blissful evening of mutual pleasure, only to find each other again in a dream, connected by their tether.
And in this dream they saw...themselves.
*
A different Alina and Aleksander stood in a room, behind a machine that Alina recognized. It was a computer, although the monitor was flatter and wider than anything David or his fellow Durasts had created. Alina could see over her counterpart's shoulder, and this too was familiar—the other Alina and other Aleksander were looking at pictures of a building. It looked like a palace, although pointier than the Little Palace or Grand Palace, and also strangely small and badly put together at that.
The other Alina and Aleksander's clothes were both strange and familiar. This Alina wore a white shirt that could have been at home under a kefta and some tightly fitted black pants. Other Aleksander wore a beige jacket and pants. The jacket was shorter and made of a lighter and less ornamented fabric than his kefta, but Alina could see a bit of similarity there. It was strange to see her husband—or his double—in something that wasn't black, but he certainly looked good in it.
He wasn't an exact double, though. The weight that her Aleksander carried was missing from his counterpart's eyes.
“I think it's the ugliest building I've ever seen,” said Other Aleksander. Beside Alina, her Aleksander's lip twitched. Neither of their counterparts noticed their presence.
It was a dream after all—it made sense the way dreams did.
“It's your standard bargain-basement foam suburban neo-Gothic,” Other Alina said. “And it's listed at a cool 3 million—ugly or not, that'll be a nice commission for us.”
“Sure,” said Other Aleksander. “But even I think the interior is too greige. They even made the wine cellar greige.”
A picture appeared on the screen. It was a brightly lit space with white walls. The floor tiles were grey-beige, which must be the “greige” that was being complained about. It didn't look like any definition of “cellar” that Alina was familiar with, although there was a rack displaying bottles of wine.
“Ugh,” said Other Alina. “I see what you mean. I was hoping for something a bit more “Cask of Amontillado.”
“Host a wine tasting, invite Tatiana...” said Other Aleksander.
“Ughh, don't tempt me,” said Other Alina.
Alina was familiar with the story their counterparts were referencing – another thing that carried through, even if Alina couldn't imagine being in a room like that. And Tatiana—could that be another Tatiana Lantsov?
If so, they and their counterparts really did have some things in common.
*
“I had the strangest dream,” said Alina Starkov, realtor, waking up in the South Loop condo she shared with her husband Aleksander (also a realtor at Lantsov Realty, Inc.) She pushed aside her beige duvet and stretched, then rolled onto her side to cuddle Sasha.
“Mmm?” he said.
“There were people who looked just like us, but they were in fancy coats in a palace! A real one, not a McMansion. Our room had a big canopy bed and green wallpaper and…” she tried to remember. “And horse statues! I think you liked horses.”
“Huh,” he said. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind a horse statue or two, now that I think of it," he said.
“Oh yeah,” Alina said. “And you only wore black.”
Her husband laughed at that, scrunching up his nose. “Now that sounds unrealistic.”