• The area is a calm garden, dozens of people in black and white. I see them through a thin trellis of blue roses. I wonder why they are gathered; A funeral, a wedding? I feel my breath is tight. I look to see what the problem is, but when I look down all I can see is a tight-fitting corset covered in sapphires and diamonds, beyond that, a soft cascade of blue-hued ivory fabric draped wave-like over a set of perfect hips. I think, “Is this my body?”

    I feel a hand on my shoulder. Warm, strong, and steady I feel my father’s hand, giving me strength. I feel steady too. With a surge of comfort, I look at the blue and silver glitter and fabric-lined path to the minister and a tall man in a dark blue- almost black-trimmed tux, a blue rose in his lapel. The people in their finest, sitting in hushed chatter, grow silent as “Cannon in D” begins played by a harp, a wooden flute, a quartet of strings.

    My father extends his arm for me. I rest my hand on it and take a deep breath as I see my best friend Kim looking about 18-19 years old now, in a beautiful Maid-of-honor’s dress walk past me with a smile and a tear being held back in her eye. I don’t recognize the other bridesmaid’s or the groomsmen escorting them. I hear the second cue of the song. I take my first step and smile. I see all my loved ones watching me. I feel warm and calm, as well as nervous with chills.

    Next thing I notice I am not walking and my father passes my hand to the tall man who towers over me by almost a foot. His tux is made of fine fabric and thin gentle chainmail. I cannot see his face. I feel like I know him and could recognize him if I could just see his face. I couldn’t tell his skin tone, nor hear anything he said as the “march” finished playing the final parting notes. I held his hand; warm, soft, and dry. Long, strong, and nimble, yet masculine fingers intertwined with mine. His hand's embrace alone flooded me with feeliings of love and respect.

    –Then I woke up to my alarm clock berating me so I have no Idea how it ends.