It’s the dream where a man and a woman stand on the beach. The woman could be me, but I see through the man, his fears. Our love is growing thin, he is afraid that this is the end. And this is the last attempt. If he doesn’t reclaim my love tonight, this is it. And on the beach we stand, other couples, groups are arriving as the sun sets. We begin to move towards the curling waves, preparing to wade in to await the Elven star, the one of reassurance. I turn him to face me, and I stare into his face. I see what he sees when he stares into mine. I feel his worry.

As him, I feel the kiss. It is a soft peck, the precursor to the three gentle kisses she always gives. The last kiss is held, and he feels the love, he feels the joy it is simply being with him, in simple form. Clasping hands, we move forward as the sky darkens and then lightens with stars.

People are waist deep in the water talking, laughing, and the ocean breeze flips curls and tops of dresses and shirts. Our arms are around each other as we look from east to west, expecting the star to shine where the sun has set, but still unsure. A flash of light bolts between the people in the water. It is a pale yellow, hidden by the murk of the sea. He bends down and captures the light, not knowing what it could be. It is a black miniature rottweiler, small enough to fit in his palm. An orb of yellow grows around it as it pants and wags its butt in excitement. Ooos and Aaahs are heard, but not towards our curious find, but towards the Elven star, she has appeared, man times larger than the others, brighter and magnificent. Holding our little pup together, it glowing in our hands, I kiss him again, and as we part, we feel each other’s smiles.


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