Lucidicy

I’ve been here before. I walk past here every day. Not only that, but I keep coming here. I know this all too well. The snow on the ground, it’s the middle of the night. I’m right near the ice cream shop by the only intersection with a light in town. It’s blinking yellow, signifying any late night traffic to use the intersection as a four way stop. I’m aware of all this, that I’m dreaming. Again for the…I’ve lost count. Yet I can’t stop myself from continuing on in the dream, I haven’t figured that part out yet.

A loud whinny pierces the air, the cry of a horse echoing out the silence of winter. I look towards the cries, the poor creature is in the middle of the intersection. He’s a tan color, a Palomino. As I approach, I can hear the sickness in its chest. It sounds like he’s just about run out of breath in his lungs. By the time I get to it, I hear nothing. I knelt down concerned and set my hand on its nose. No air is escaping it, and oddly to the touch the creature is ice cold, like it had been there for a good while in death.

“Please h-help” A voice says. My eyes immediately fall to a man, his lower half of his body beneath the horse.

“Oh my God!” I say getting up, “Are you ok?” I press.

He made a slight wincing pain. His eyes were deep blue, and from what I could tell he had blonde full hair, it was a slight mess due to his accident. It reminded me of a new wave sexier James Dean style. Were there feathers in his hair? There were, white ones. They were all over the ground blending with the snow, no wonder I didn’t notice right away. He wore a heavy leather jacket as well.

“Please,“ he held out his hand, “Help.” He urged. With that I took his hand and arm. I pulled him as best I could, he moved his legs as I did so. Suddenly I fell backwards straight on my butt, he was free. I let go and he turned over on his knees to get up. That’s when I noticed the wings folded against his back.

“Can you walk? Nothing’s broke is it?” I stood up. He looked up at me and held out his hand once more, I helped him stand. Once he did he towered over me. Tall and handsome was definitely his description. I’ve never seen him around town before.

“Thank you, I am fine.” he said breathlessly.

“But your horse.” I looked down at the poor thing.

He sighed “She’s been dying for some time now, she came to her end I believe.” I could hear the sadness in his voice. A wave of silence passed over. I want to so desperately ask if he was an angel.

“Are you-are you an angel?” I spit out. He looked around with a bit of concern on his face

“You can see my wings?” he questions me. I nod my head. He looks at me with this sincerity of his eyes, scanning me over “I found you” he told me.

“Found me?”

“I was told to come down here and sought out my ward, only they can see my wings,” his hand delicately rested on my shoulder “You must be Sue Ellen.” he gave me a warm smile.

“I don’t know your name.” I admit to him. To this day I still don’t.

“Why my name is-



I sat up quickly. My room, I’m in my room. Comforted by my floral mural across from the foot of my bed, I pushed aside the covers. I could feel my sweaty skin and what caused it, stupid dream. Well, not stupid, just annoying. It’s been playing in my head ever since I could remember. Luckily it’s not an every night thing. Sometimes it’s a couple times a year, couple times a month a year, or even the very limited one time last year. Nothing new to me, just get up and try not to waste a whole day of thoughts on one thing. I plop back, my pillow engulfed my head and all I could see was my ceiling fan.

“Sue Ellen!” my roommates booming voice startled me just on the other side of my door.

“What?” I said loud enough for her to hear. Or at least I hope, I don’t want her coming in here. She opened my door anyway, her black hair in a messy bun.

“Sue Ellen you left the oven on again.” She snipped.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Yeah well next time you might kill us.”

“Krista I’ll be careful really.”

She closed my door and left me alone. Might as well get up and have breakfast for once. I threw my covers off of me and walked straight across the hall to the bathroom. Naturally I went and did my business, then made my way down the hall past Krista’s room. It was a small hallway lined to the nines with mirrors, it was Krista’s thing. It sort of grew into my thing to, always looking for mirrors at antique shops and garage sales to add to the wall. My hair is a real mess today, that’s what happens when I go to bed with a wet head. Especially since I cut it short, if I had known I would be ridiculed for dyeing it a darker shade than blonde I would have thought twice about it. I walked past the signature gash in the wall Krista left when we moved in. Continuing on up the few steps to the living room and kitchen where Krista ate her cereal, I tripped over her boots lying in the middle of the floor.

“Krista your boots are going to kill me.”

“Leaving the oven on will kill us.” she said not looking up from her newspaper. She then glanced up at me.

“You had the dream again.” she said. I almost objected, only because I didn’t want to talk about it. She thinks she’s a dream expert, though I’ve suffered with the same one for years and she has no clue what it means.

“I think your guardian angel is trying to tell you something.” She pressed.

“Yeah well he needs to get with the program.” I said opening the fridge. I grabbed the milk and orange juice and set it on the table next to Krista. I sat and had breakfast with her. I even got to take a longer nicer shower for the day. Normally I just sleep in to the point of rolling out of bed minutes before work.

“I’ll see you later for dinner.” I told Krista. I put on my jacket along with my scarf.

“Aren’t you closing the shop though? You won’t be home till like one in the morning” she curled up on the couch.

“Crap, it is Tuesday” I huffed. Well, that ruined my day already. The sooner I get there the sooner I can leave I guess? I just say that to myself to feel better. I left our little town home trying to defy the slick as hell ice on the sidewalks into town. Luckily the maintenance people put salt on the sidewalks.

“Sue Ellen!” I heard and old croaky voice. It’s Mr. Fitsimmons, the little old man that walks with me to work almost every day, sporting his iconic coke bottle glasses and cane. Only because he’s a regular customer at my parents shop and a sweet old man that I’ll let him do that. He likes to drink coffee and read all day while I work. I hardly go a day without seeing him. As usual we talked and walked downtown which was only about a quarter of a mile away.

“You know I think I’m going to have my grandson build me a greenhouse, I’d like to make my own tea” Mr. Fitsimmons told me.

“Yeah, that’ll be nice, you can sell it at the farmers market when it rolls through town” I smiled. A patch of ice came before us, I linked arms with him so he wouldn’t fall.

“That’s what I told Karen at the flower shop next door to your shop, she got huffy and told me not to sell any floral teas, that’s her thing you know” he went on.

“Don’t let her tell you that, she’s a mean lonely woman who is jealous of a lot of people in this town”
We came into our small town, few cars were out as usual in the winter days here. Most people just walk anyhow. The whole downtown was only three blocks and one stoplight. The only businesses that pulled money in was the fancy Victorian style hotel called the Grand Masters that’s said to be “haunted” and a few small mom and pop shops like the one my parents own.
The familiar sign that read “Willy’s Drugstore” in classic fifties writing came in sight. We weren’t a pharmacy, we sell ice-cream and sandwiches. Mr. Fitsimmons stood behind me as I unlocked the front door. I helped him inside and he went straight to the main counter in his usual spot. I started a pot of coffee for him and went in the back to the safe to grab the till for the cash register. I brought it back out and set up shop. When the coffee was done I poured a bit into a mug for Mr. Fitsimmons.

“I thought your mother opened shop today?” he asked.

“Not anymore, I work more so she can be with my dad”

“In the hospital all day?”

“All day whenever she can”

“When my wife died it was hard, but I learned to let go, your dad died a long time ago your mother needs to realize it and let go, because she’s only hurting herself and you” he admitted. I don’t talk much about my parents, only to Mr. Fitsimmons really. Because he’s wise and old, and has lovely things to say about life that make me feel better.

“She thinks he’s still alive in that coma, I feel the same way you do, she called me the other night and we got in a fight about how we need to let him go, we don’t have the heart or money for it anymore. That was three days ago and she hasn’t called me since”

“Eh she’ll warm up to it”

Truth is, I said goodbye to my dad a long time ago. He’s been in that coma for three years. All I can do now is pray my mom just puts him out of his misery. But she won’t. I don’t like to think of my mom as a selfish person but this act she’s committing every day is selfish. I don’t know how I’d react when she finally decides to let him slip away. I might not be as wounded as I think, since I’ve prepared for it for years now.

“Enough about me, what about you, how was your date with Inez?” I smiled at him.

“Ahhh she’s a fake.” he said.

“How so? Find out her hair isn’t actually red?” I teased.

“She don’t have hair at all.”

“Well you don’t have any teeth.” I said simply.

He didn’t have much to say after that, I just laughed. It was getting closer to noon and my uncle still wasn’t here yet, he cooks for us. I can’t sell donuts for lunch. So I call his phone, no answer. I call again, no answer. I left him a message then called my mom. She managed to get a hold of him, he’s stuck in a snow storm about a hundred or so miles out of town. I did scold him to leave a day early in case anything happened on his way home from his trip. My mom is going to have to come help. Oh how I’m going to dread it, me in the hot kitchen while she mans the till. Not to mention she probably won’t say much to me since our last little phone call.