Paper Dummy
Afghanistan.
Or maybe it’s Congo.
Or Rwanda.
Odd, how he can’t remember which, can’t remember exactly which one of so many nightmare holes that was.
The failing equipment is vivid in his mind. He can still remember the codes painted …
Puck's Cakewalk
Beds for Bad Dreams
“Futons won’t work for Dance,” Emma says patiently, putting her seatbelt on. She’s been saying things like that through three stores now. “The bed frame needs to be higher up off the floor.”
Drin looks at her, and sits back …
Out of the Box
This one Dance recognized.
It was one of the better dreams, like the ones about laughing with his grandmother teacher over her piano keyboard, or when he was a baby, eating imaginary ice cream with his mother in a rusty-red …
Handing Off
“I’m on my way,” is all Drin says when she makes the call, and he shows up within twenty minutes. “Sweetheart, I came back,” he says, striding into the room. “Can Emma sit with us?”
Emma’s sure she can feel …
Unlikely Triggers
Emma points at the computer monitor. “See, this queen-sized one has an iron frame, the legs are about two and a half feet long–”
“No, no,” Dance says, “we don’t need–”
“Yes you do need another bed,” Emma says. “Drin …
The New Bed
Dance lays down carefully on the new bed, wrinkling the new sheets. Drin and Emma are looking at him with that suspense on their faces: Will it be all right?
He wriggles a little bit, and stares up at the …
Flight Dreams
“You might not want to do that,” Emma says.
Drin looks at her, and then at the skateboard in his fist. “What? This? What’s wrong with giving Dance a decent board?”
She gives a long, slow smile, and turns back …