Never Tell. Karen Young

person in her world who would dare remind her. “I don’t see how a silly pin could have anything to do with that,” she said quietly. Then, turning her face away, she closed her eyes, ending their conversation.

      That night, she had the dream again. But this time, she wasn’t wandering aimlessly, but moving through a huge room, smoke-filled and crowded. The hotel ballroom? As she walked, people moved about, talking and laughing. She heard snatches of music, the clink of glasses, smatterings of applause. She glimpsed faces and felt people turning to watch her making her way toward…whatever it was. And with the familiar heady anticipation building inside her, she moved toward that something—something wonderful. Now she saw Jason, who seemed to urge her on, but when she wanted him to come with her, he simply melted into the crowd as if he had never been there. Then she saw Hunter standing in the arched doorway, smiling. Beyond him was his mother wielding a pair of scissors, cutting her new jacket into shreds. She wanted to tell Hunter to stop her, but now he was disappearing, too, swallowed up in nothingness just as Jason had done. And then, suddenly, the promised joy was gone and she felt only deep disappointment and pain. Terrible, terrible pain.

      She woke up to find herself sitting straight up in bed with Willie pressed against her, purring. She buried her face in her hands and found it wet with tears. Shakily, she wiped them away and drew in a long, shuddering breath. She was suddenly cold, bone cold. She reached for Willie and lay back, pulled the blanket up and covered them both. The cat was warm. Holding him close calmed her, helped to banish the dream. In a minute, she turned to look at the clock on the bedside table: 3:10 a.m. Hours yet until daylight. She was never able to sleep after the dream, anyway. She pushed the covers aside, kissed Willie on the top of his head and got up.