That fact surprises me more than her wings made out of bright green leaves and her ability to fly. I look but can’t tell if she has all her fingers. She is waving, her hands a blur of motion. She dips into a puffy white cloud and disappears. When she appears again, her mouth is moving but no sound is coming out. She’s trying to tell me something. I can’t hear. I can’t hear! She swoops nearer and nearer like a creature in a 3-D movie until all that fills the screen is her perfect pink mouth and rows of tiny white teeth. She’s opening wide, her tonsils flapping. I’m about to be swallowed. “Find me,” she taunts, as I slide down her throat and into the warm ocean. “Find me.” I sat up, soaked with sweat, my heart pounding out of my chest. I stripped off my pajamas and lay back, shivering gratefully as the air-conditioning hit my wet skin. Ever since I could remember, dreaming had been like stepping into a dark universe as vivid as real life. The coffin dream was the worst.
