SETTING: Exterior, a rocky beach. Calm surf. Dim morning light. You try to remember sitting here with Her. You try to remember the first time She brought you here. You feel yourself sink into the mud. The cold water soaks into your clothes. You do not remember how you got here. A single figure stands in the distance, unmoving. Two voices are heard.
You had the dream again?
Yes.
Better or worse than the ones where you're drowning?
Different. Barely.
Have you figured out what it means yet?
Are you going to tell me?
No. I want you to describe it to me again.
And that will help me understand?
Are you under the impression that I'm here to help you understand?
—I don't think I was ever drowning. In the dreams.
You see Her in the dream and She's breathing. And you're not.
Yes.
And you're not drowning?
She always knew how to do things that I couldn't.
But you don't get those dreams anymore.
No.
I asked you to describe what took their place.
—I don't think either of us were drowning.
I don't believe you.
She was breathing. You said that.
And you were not.
She was breathing.
What if that means something different now?
What if it doesn't mean anything at all?
Is that what you believe?
You asked me to describe my dreams.
Yes.