It's been a long day, once again. As I settle back into my bed, I think about all the things that have to be done tomorrow. Louise and I are house-hunting, again. We'll be discussing plans for the wedding, again. And I'm leaving my job for pastures new, so it's a very interesting time to be me. These thoughts fill my mind, each one coming round as soon as I dismiss it, like a merry-go-round. I close my eyes, and eventually drift into the darkness of sleep.
I dream. The walls of my room fade away to reveal a great grey plane, stretching into the distance in every direction. The first thing I notice is that, despite the sheer black sky, everything is as brightly lit as a summer day. The sky itself seems too low, oppressive; resting inches above me as I wander the endless plane. I don't know how long I walk for, but when I turn around, there's a girl. I swear she wasn't there a second ago.
"Hi", she says, and shakes my hand. Her skin is cold, almost glassy. Only then do I notice the strange way the eerie, sourceless light seems to shine through her simple black clothes. Hm. Jeans and a blouse. She only looks about eighteen.
"Hi", I reply uncertainly. "Who are you?"
"My name's Sarah. And you, of course, are the great Daniel Holland." She states it as fact, not a question. "I'm a great fan of your work."
I wonder what work she could possibly mean.
"I've come to warn you. You're going to make a decision you'll regret, one that will affect your whole future... sorry! I know this comes across as 'destiny of mankind' stuff. But it's important."
"Is this a premonition?" I venture, unsure who she is or what it is exactly that she's a fan of.
"Right. I'll start from the beginning. We understand a lot more about dreams these days."
"These days?"
"Yes. Look. Have you ever wondered how people dream of the future and call it psychicness?"
"Actually, I'm not sure how many people call it -"
"Shush. And some people dream of history and call it past lives?" I nod; she has a point.
"Well, dreams aren't limited to one place or time. Premonitions, reincarnation dreams - they're all cases of two minds being in the same place. To make things easier for the scientist in you, imagine it as two minds that share a frequency."
I put my hands up, cutting her off in mid-flow. "Hang on. This sounds like bad sci-fi to me, and I should know! Two minds sharing a frequency? What? What does that mean, what would it do?"
"So essentially you're saying 'please, continue', then?" She stands there, hands on her hips, surrounded by vast grey emptiness. I nod, sheepishly. "When two minds are in the same place, thoughts and memories can be transferred from one mind to another. Although rarely as directly as this. Only since we worked out how the sleeping mind -"
I interrupt again. "Hang on, go back. You said I'd make a decision I'd regret. And you're here to stop that? Change the future - past - and improve the timeline? Surely you know the damage that could do?" Ignoring her fed-up expression, I say "And anyway, how can I be sure that the stuff you're saying is true? It sounds like nonsense."
"Well if it is, it's your nonsense. We're in your mind. And I'm not asking you to change your mind about the decision. You'll make it, you'll regret it, that's how it's got to go." I take a breath to argue this point, but she continues: "And as for whether this 'stuff' is true, here's proof that our minds are on the same wavelength. My hair reminds you of an ex-girlfriend, whom you ended it with because she kept calling you 'puppy'."
I look at her blonde-brown ponytail, and raise an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh, a figment of my imagination knows what I'm thinking!" I say, resorting to sarcasm. "Truly, this is a miracle -"
"Fine! Fine, you can have your proof! Tomorrow - well, today by now - you'll meet the person who'll convince you to make the decision you'll regret." She looks irritated, as if I wrestled this information from her against her will.
After that, the oppressive black sky and the endless plane begin to fade, along with the girl. Then, there is nothing but the usual dream nonsense, probably involving public nudity. I wake up with vague recollections of going to a zoo and watching my mum do a pop concert; but the dream on the grey plane is as lucid and as inexplicable as the moment it happened.
I wake with an eerie sense that something isn't quite right, but I can't put my finger on why. I'm sure you know the feeling, as if you've dreamed something unsettling but you can't remember what. There's something hovering just on the edge of my memory; something that worries me. I roll onto my side, contemplating getting up. I stare at my grey carpet, frowning. Why is today important?
... Ah well, if it's that important, it'll come back to me, I reason, and I push myself out of bed.
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