• Sleep comes, like slow falling black snowflakes. Slowly my body is covered, it becomes hard to move. My body is out of my control, and blackness covers my eyes. I am covered, lost in the realms of sleep.
    It is alright though, because it is in that realm that I can see him.
    The whole world is dark, the sky is a deep midnight blue and frosty stars hang suspended like ethereal fairy lights in the sky. The air is chill, and fresh, like a breath of life against my cheeks. Even though it is dark, everything is in sharp relief, every blade of grass seems like an individual. I stand, in the middle of a vast empty field and the sky seems to stretch endlessly above me. I am waiting for him.
    Soft whisps of cloud wind their way across the sky, borne on a gentle breeze. The pale light of the large moon casts soft shadows over the ground, so that is seems as if the ground moves like the sea with soft swells. The grass whispers as it moves slightly, the wind dragging her fingers through the blades leisurely. I will wait for him.
    And there, there he is. He comes from the sky, as always. He has beautiful, feathery white wings, and he glides down to me from heights unknown. His face is alabaster pale, and his black hair streaming out behind him seems to meld with the night sky. He wears green robes, of various shades of green, and loose wooden sandals.
    He holds a meloncholy in his eyes, and I can't really identify it properly. I wish... I wish I knew what it was, because I want to help him. His lips are turned with a slight hint of bitterness, like something very sad has happened long ago. His features are fine, and everything about him seems light, like he could be picked up on a breeze and carried away. It scares me sometimes, because I worry that he will simply fly away.
    It feels like... It feels like I have caught the robe of an angel, yet at any time the angel might fly away, leaving me behind forever.
    As I think about it, I wonder why he comes to me at all, something so perfect. Why would an angel such as he bother with me? I like to think it is because I am special, that I have captured his heart.
    I always wake with tears on my cheeks, and a dry throat, because I know that I have just imagined it all. Beautiful angel, my dearest dream, my fondest wish, all in my imagination.