How had he gotten there? His car was found over ten miles away. The only fingerprints found in it, were the victims. They thought he had to have been carried and dumped there. Yet there was no evidence of that. There were just my prints showing me tramping around. They were understandably confused.Well, I was not about to admit I had accidentally killed him, when I had responded to his attack. Somehow, I thought they would take a dim view of spells, providing they accepted that explanation. And I was responsible for a man's death, after all. I felt guilty as hell about it. I also had no idea how he had gotten there. Just one minute I was alone, the next there he was. It had to be magic.Three days later I was walking through the downtown business district. I stopped and looked at a shop that I swear I had never seen before. I had been up and down this street hundreds of times in my life, yet now I noticed this place?It seemed to draw me, and I only hesitated a moment. Then I thought. I closed my eyes, and forced myself to go to sleep, overriding the emotional pain that I felt.In my dream, we were together, somewhere. It was dark, and we were inside, sitting in front of a roaring fireplace, no other lights in the room. A bottle of wine was next to us, and we were laughing and talking. The firelight danced in your eyes, and on your lips. Your lips invited me to kiss them, which I did, softly at first, and then stronger, with more passion.As with dreams, things moved at a different pace. The power of dreaming removed all of our clothing with none of the usual fumbling and clumsiness that is involved... just sudden intimate nakedness. A white fluffy rug was covering the floor in front of us - it must have been there from the start, but did not become a detail until this point in the dream. The wine bottle and glasses were similarly removed, as if they never were, to join our clothing in the nothingness of dreams.The firelight reflected on your nipples as I kissed.
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