Sahara woke with a start from a deep, dream-filled sleep; her night gown soaked with perspiration.
Getting up out of bed she feels a tremor of fear filling her body as she tries to reconstruct the dream that woke her, but she cannot.
“Wow… what was that about?” she speaks aloud to herself, walking to her dresser drawer and pulling out a fresh nightgown. Slipping out of the drenched gown and letting it drop to the floor, she cannot shake the overwhelming feeling that something is horribly wrong… but what? Is it Rory?
As she walks through the house and into kitchen she can see the moon- light casting shadows in familiar places and though she tries, she cannot make herself feel more comfortable.
Putting a pot of water on the stove to make a cup of chamomile tea, she opens the sliding door to the patio and feels the summer’s night breeze blow gently through her dark hair, mixing with the perspiration and instantly cooling her down.
Florida nights are beautiful… the coolness of the evening’s ocean breeze mixing with the remnants of the day’s humidity offer the senses a variety of feelings and smells. Ordinarily these things offer a sense of peacefulness for her… but not tonight. This night, all she can focus on is the sound of the night’s flying insects meeting their untimely demise in the bug zapper near the door’s opening.
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