Dreaming Away Reality

He's following you home.

You slung your bag over your shoulder after English finished, and started walking home, You pulled your umbrella out, and walked across the field as a short cut home.

That's when you heard the footsteps. You whipped your head round, and saw him running after you, his hair dripping from the rain, staring at the screen on his camera.

He looks up, and sees you closer than he expected, and trips over his shoe laces.

You look down at him debating whether to help him up.

He pulls himself up before you make up your mind. And stands facing you, under the shelter of your umbrella.

'I just got the most perfect picture of you' he exclaims, holding out his camera as if to show you.

You turn around unimpressed, and carry on walking home.

He falls into step beside you

'Soñador' he says 'Soñador Soñador Soñador' he lets your name name roll around his mouth, as if he's tasting it, trying it out, seemingly satisfied by the end.

'Dill' I repeat, 'you can call me Sonny'

'You remembered my name' he states thoughtfully.

'Sonny' he says, after a moment of thought 'is that what your friends call you?'

You nod, and try to ignore this lumbering fellow beside you. Maybe then he will go away.

No such luck, he follows you all the way to your house, talking about God knows what, you are still trying to block him out.

Sometimes he darts off into different directions, his camera leading him to 'something spectacular' Or 'Breath- takingly beautiful'.

He follows you all the way to your house, his camera flashing away, until you stop, at the path to your house.

'Why have we stopped' he questions.

You motion towards my house, 'home' you say.

Pondering on whether you should say goodbye, and deciding against it, you turn to unlatch your gate.

'Wait!' he says 'Where are we?'

'You followed me all the way here, and you don't even know where you are?' you say incredulously.

He just looks at you.

'We are just on the edge of town' you sigh, if you follow that road, you'll get to Queens road.'

You walk through the gate, and he snaps a picture of you suddenly.

You decide against talking to him again; he's wasted enough of your time, and walk up the path.

You are vaguely aware of him bounding off, following his camera, capturing something magical.

You walk gratefully into your house, finally you can get back to that daydream.