I had the weirdest dream last night. I wish I could have written about it when I first woke up.

I have no idea what prompted it.

~

I met the love of my life. His name was Lars Mercury. I don't know why I knew his name, because people in my dreams NEVER have names, but that was his name. Lars Mercury.

We lived in a kind of...dystopian world, I suppose.

People were afraid, but the kind of quiet waiting afraid when nothing really bad has happened yet.

We had been invaded. There was no war, not that I remember. We just had been...assimilated.

And get this: by The Chinese.

I remember it like that! With the capital letters and everything! It's like how people said The Russians during the cold war.

Weird. Anyway.

The Chinese controlled the government. We had no prime minister or anything, just a shadowy council of people who didn't speak the same language. And they controlled our fate.

Walking down the street, nothing looked very different. Everyone was quietly afraid, but trying to get on with their lives.

That's about when I met Lars Mercury. He was tall. I don't remember much about his face, because his collarbones were at my eye level.

I remember he had very dark, but not black, hair. It was long, combed smooth and pulled back into a ponytail. I love that, so much.

He had an easy smile, and broad hands, and narrow hips. His shoulders were almost impossibly wide. He was lean, and moved with the grace of a dancer, although he didn't have a lot of muscle on him.

When we met, we both knew, instantly. He held my face in his hands, like he was cupping a flower, and looked into my eyes.

Have you ever met someone who looked right into you?

I meet people like that, sometimes, outside of my dreams. Not often. When I do, I want to fuck them instantly. I want to suck in their breath and slide my hand down their pants until my fingertips touch crisp curls.

I don't often fuck them.

G is one of those people. He can see right into me. I wish I could see right into him.

But I looked into Lars Mercury's eyes, and he looked into mine, and we looked into each other and it was beautiful.

"We're soul mates," he told me. "Real soul mates. I have been looking for you, but I didn't know it was you until I found you."

And we were inseparable.

I remember there were a lot of missing child posters around. I didn't think much about them, beyond that lingering sense of unease. I didn't know any of them personally.

Some of the posters were old, really old. As old as the assimilation.

The paper was yellowed, water stained, the faces sun-bleached to little round moons with smudges for eyes.

Lars and I walked the streets and held hands and tried not to look at the posters.

Then we got notice one day that we'd been selected for genetic screening by our darling government.

We went to a building, a large warehouse type place, and were put on conveyer belts. Lars and I together. We held hands sometimes, and sometimes didn't, and watches the grey-beige walls roll past.

Some men came out in long white coats. They were very excited by us.

"You have perfect DNA," they told us. "The perfect man. The perfect woman."

I remember being incredulous. I could believe Lars was perfect - he certainly was perfect to me - but I thought it was a bit odd that I was selected too.

They were very excited. They took us off the conveyor belt.

Somewhere in this process, we realized where all the children had gone.

They had been testing the children, melting them down to their genetic parts, and then discarding the soup when they did not like the results.

Their techniques had advanced. They could test without hurting us. But in order to use our genetic materials, they needed to melt us down, to spread us as thin as possible.

They were so excited. They invited us to a fancy dinner, with lots of politicians and scientists.

The table was wood. It was a soft gold color. The linens were white, and the plates were edged with gold. Our cutlery was silver and tasteful.

I was glaring at it. I was so angry. I was so angry for all those children, for Lars who would soon be no more, and for me, who would soon have no more Lars.

"Do you want something to drink?" A waiter, slightly in awe, stopped at our table.

"Milk," said Lars.

"Scotch." I bit off the word, the word slicing like a knife.

"Rosie!" said Lars. "You don't usually--"

I looked at him. My gaze was hard and sharp. I was angry at him, too, and his unthinking soft milk-drinking ways.

"Bring me the whole bottle," I told the waiter, without breaking eye contact with Lars. Lars was taken aback, but slowly his face quieted as he looked into my eyes.

There was something there, an idea growing that I didn't even know of.

Originally my plan had been to get belligerently drunk. Now it was something else.

"Good idea," Lars mouthed, and I knew if he could have, he would have held my hand under the table.

The scotch came, both the glass and the bottle. The liquid was amber, the smell winding into my nostrils, peaty and sharp. I didn't know if it was good scotch, but probably. It came in a crystal decanter.

I leapt to my feet, raising the glass high over my head and smashed it dramatically in the middle of the room.

The scientists stared at me. They didn't know what I was doing.

Lars lit the scotch.

We grabbed the bottle and each others' hands and ran for it.

They chased, but there was confusion. The fire spread quickly across the wood floor. The politicians were trapped at the raised head table, scrambling to get to safety.

We were running up stairs. I turned and smashed the bottle of scotch behind us, amber liquid spraying the walls and waterfalling down the steps. Lars tossed a lighter onto it and then we turned and ran again.

And then I woke up.

~

Weird fuckin' dreams.

Before&After