He woke, disturbed. The dream had been vivid, violent. Their car had crashed; metal, glass and flesh, all ripped apart. His mood changed when he saw everything was the same. The same road, the same darkness. His wife was still driving, staring out the windshield into the night.
“I just had the strangest dream.”
She didn’t answer.
“I dreamt we crashed. That we died.”
She turned to look at him. The front of her face was a bloodied mess, her eyes missing. Blood oozed out of her wounds. She grinned with a toothless mouth.
“That was no dream, my love.”
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Network Error by Kristin Lennox"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Teke Two by Liam Hogan"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Kent Town Station by James M. Rose"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Future’s Reflections by M. Tensor"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>