Before my eyes, out stretches a hand; a familiar one. I recognized the lines in his palm. I had once memorized them, as the lines told our love story and ultimate fate.
We were to reunite many times, each time ending abruptly.
“Dance with me.”
I allowed myself to take it all in; his eyes, his touch, the bass in the music, the lyrics, our connection. “Take me with you,” I pleaded.
“I can’t, the timing, it isn’t right …” his voice was drowned out by the sound of sirens.
“Hey, wake up! You were talking in your sleep again.”