It wasn't a dream.

.
.
As I woke this morning, I remained there a while longer.  Usually, when I wake, I pop out of bed as quickly as mechanically possible.  That can vary, not by much but it feels like a large difference.  Some rare days I have to decide if it is time, if I can.  Today it took five minutes to decide, mostly eyes closed.  As the decision was made, I opened my eyes, in the dark, to facilitate readiness.

As I rested there, eyes open, I noticed something coalescing in the dark.  Sam!  Odd how she moved. As dark as it was... I do have exceptional eyes, for some things.  But... no.  Right as I was reaching out to pet her, I realized something.  The door was shut.  She couldn't be up here.  It wasn't her.

I psychically recoiled in natural horror.  I hadn't moved to reach out, so there was nothing but mind shock and maybe a terrible expression.  It continued to twist, contort, change, as if if it had been Sam, she be twisting while settling in.  Not fast turns, but enough to see.

I decided to reach out, see if there was substance... cautiously.  Definitely no substance.  And, yet, a familiarity?  A scent, a feel, a... nature.  Not a ghost, a projection?  If I had to bet, I'd say so.  Can't always know, but I have an... affinity for these things

I wanted to see if a little light from outside would allow a better look.  No, and closing things back up didn't bring the form back.  I always thought she had it in her.  If I am not convinced she did this consciously.  She fears her... different... abilities.  I gave up fearing my own natures over the years, centuries, lifetimes.  She hasn't had the time.

I always, each new life, have to eventually... recall? and then put it all together.  People don't have past experiences from which to draw, so they fear the vestiges of who they were in the garden.  Words were only spoken for emphasis.  Closeness more intimate than sex could be had from any distance.  You... will learn this in heaven.  Or... remember there what I remember here.

Darkness has corrupted  these things.  Even I... reach out with caution.  And, yet, sometimes, often, usually, it... is okay.  Sleep well, Sweetcheeks.

Ugh.  I may go back to bed.  Join her, in a right way?  Later.