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It Was Only a Dream... - excerpt



It was only a dream, but she felt everything. From the butterflies she had in her stomach because of the casual glances, to the "accidental" touches while sitting through the rest of the lecture.

It began when she had to go in front of the class for a demonstration. At the end, she thought, "Hmmm, I'm up, might as well sit next to him."

She casually walked to his side of the room. He was sitting in the second row of seats. She put her foot gracefully on one in the front row and held out her hand. He knew exactly what she was doing and more than willingly helped her climb over the seats. She sat down, as if she had been there the entire time, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her.

That prompted the psych instructor to ask, "So, if he had been sitting over here, would you have responded the same." She looked at him as if the question was rhetorical, and did not answer. Almost everyone knew the answer. Again, the instructor prompted her, "Would you have sat over here, had he been in this seat?" She looked at the clock - 2 seconds until the bell tolled and they were free. Everyone got up and on her way out, she said, "Now, what do you think?"

It was the first time she had ever acted this way - from start to finish. She had always wanted to be next to him, but was not able to bring herself to making the move in the "public" eye. The passion they shared was in the past, but there was always that underlying flame that existed. Why today? Why now? Those questions were in her mind, somewhere, but not in her present state of mind - just in her subconscious. THEN, to blow off the instructor like that, especially in a military collegiate setting - she must be out of her gourd.

As they walked hand in hand, out of class and into the courtyard of the campus, she asked him, "weren't you at my house last night, or was that another of my wild dreams?" She paused for a moment, and then said, "I could have sworn you were there, lying on my couch. I came out of my room and "

He stops her with a gentle kiss, "No, it must have been a dream. Are you doing this because of what we were or is this something new and that you are wanting now?"

She looked at him, straight in the eyes. There was no need to answer. She put her arms around his neck and began what some call the kiss of death. The type of kiss that starts out gentle then climbs to such a state of ecstasy, the world is on another plane.

At that point, she wakes up, in a sweat. Not really knowing where she is, what day it was or if the dream was real. Rubbing her eyes, she looks at the clock. Still the witching hour, must have been a dream. She glanced to the man lying beside her. He was sound asleep. She watched him while making mental plans for the night to come.