Running on autopilot was just part of her life, Monday through Friday. The commute home was the same thoughtless trip but without the strict time restraints. After all, it wasn’t like someone was waiting for her. At least, not for the last year or so since she finally gave up on the losers in the local dating pool. It wasn’t like she was not lonely. She was lonely as hell. But the emotional effort it took to wade through the leftovers wasn’t worth it.
She’d grown comfortable enough with her predictable life … or so she thought. But lately, things weren’t quite the same. She had been haunted by the same strange dream for ten nights straight.
It always started the same way … with her walking casually down the sidewalk. She decided the brightly painted picturesque buildings she passed had a distinctive French colonial look. Seagulls, as well as a random pelican or two, were clues that it was a seaside town.
Unlike her cold, busy city, nobody was in a hurry. In fact, people actually stopped to talk to each other. Traffic was nearly nonexistent. Did a place like that even exist anymore? She doubted it and chalked it all up to being nothing but a dream … a repetitive dream which was a welcome escape.
But dreaming about the same place and the same scenario every night for two weeks? Maybe it did mean something. She’d become so comfortable walking down the dream street that she even recognized the dream people.
So, by the fifteenth straight night, she welcomed stepping into her now familiar dreamscape.
“Who’s a good boy?” she asked, welcoming the same golden retriever she met on every journey. “Nice to see you,” she called out, waving to the two elderly couples chatting across the street. It’s not like she knew their names, but they always waved back like they’d known each other for years.
That night her dream held something new, an inviting sidewalk café. Deciding to check it out, she crossed the street and read a sign which read Wicked Brew Café. It certainly seemed new to the dream, but at the same time, she felt as if it had been there the whole time. Cautiously, she opened the front door and was immediately greeted by a friendly waitress who also seemed very familiar.
“Hey, Gina, welcome to Misfit Bay. Ready to get started?”
Gina glanced around the charming café, somehow knowing she’d arrived right where she belonged.
“I think I am, Annie.” She stared at the welcoming woman, wondering how she knew her name.
Suddenly, she was jolted from her dream. Disorientated by how real it felt, but even more by the fact that she knew the waitress’s name.
“Annie?” she said out loud.
Nearly hopping out of bed, she immediately went online and searched for any town with the name Misfit Bay. When the result was a town in Louisiana, she gasped. “Impossible!” To dream of a town she’d never heard of? To make things even more weird, the images matched her dream, right down to the colorful buildings lining the quaint main street.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating on her next search. Did she really want to know if the Wicked Brew Café actually existed?
Finally relenting, she typed out the name, and a listing for the restaurant popped up on the screen. The image took her breath away. It matched her dreamexactly. Even more shocking were the three cheerful women standing out in front of the building. And one of them was the same woman she met in her dream.
“That’s her. That’s Annie!” she gasped.
Despite her best efforts to fall back to sleep and reenter the dream, it was useless. She spent the rest of the night learning everything she could about Misfit Bay.
Her biggest question was why? What the hell was happening? This was more than some strange dream with coincidences that could be sorted out with a string of explanations. No, there was something supernatural about this. She could feel it. It wasn’t scary. In fact, it was more exciting than weird. Daydreaming about the picturesque town and the little café became her favorite pastime. Then it became an obsession.
Another Monday, back in the office as usual. But it was anything but usual. The hands of the Fates were busy.
Juliet, her coworker, rushed past her desk. Noticing Gina, she made an immediate U-turn. “Gina? Why are you just acting like nothing has changed?”
Shrugging, she tapped her keyboard. “Well, I can’t log in. But that’s not unusual.”
“Didn’t anyone tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“The feds raided the company over the weekend. Your boss is sitting in jail. Turns out his whole investment company was just an elaborate Ponzi scheme. The rest of us are getting the hell out of here now. And you should too.”
Gina rolled her chair back, waving her arms like she was hopelessly trying to stop a waterfall with her bare hands. “Wait. What? Are you saying we don’t have jobs anymore? Just like that?”
“Yep. Just like that.”
“Wha … what are you going to do?”
Juliet set her box of belongings on Gina’s desk. “Start looking for a new job, anything for now. Then, maybe I’ll go back to school and try a new career. You know, make a fresh start.”
“A fresh start,” Gina mumbled. As she packed up her desk, Juliet’s words echoed through her mind. “A fresh start.”