Someone was calling her name. Soon the voice got loud enough for her to hear clearly.
“Hey, wake up! Was it that dream again?”
She nodded as she tried to gasp for some air. I am here. I’m here. I’m in bed.
“Marie, it happened again, right? Maybe you should see the doctor, you know, it may be a sign of a serious illness...”
She didn't answer anything. She didn't listen, to be honest. She laid down there vainly staring at the ceiling, with one hand on her stomach, feeling her body move – how her chest lifted breathing in, and how it got back in
the same exact position as she exhaled. Again, and again.
The dream felt familiar. Not because of its recurrence. No. It's not like that... It's just... This time... it felt so different.
And she didn’t understand why.
Marie quickly closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep again.
What she didn’t know was that she should have raised her head a bit and looked around. There was an old chest lying on the table and waiting to be acknowledged.
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