Our relationship remains platonic. But for three nights after I left the bakery there were the nightmares.
Hard to believe it was two weeks ago. I am pursued down the empty streets at night by ghostly figures.
Though I always run to the bakery, the door is locked, and the people inside never turn to look at me.
Through the window, the bride and groom on the wedding cake point at me and laugh—
the air becomes charged with laughter until I can't stand it—and the two cupids wave their flaming arrows.
I scream. I pound on the door, but there is no sound. I see Charlie staring back at me from inside.
Is it only a reflection? Things clutch at my legs and drag me away from the bakery down into the shadows of the alleyway,
and just as they begin to ooze all over me I wake up.
Other times the window of the bakery opens into the past and looking through it I see other things and other people.
It's astonishing how my power of recall is developing.
I cannot control it completely yet, but sometimes when I'm busy reading or working on a problem, I get a feeling of intense clarity.
I know it's some kind of subconscious warning signal, and now instead of waiting for the memory to come to me, I close my eyes and reach out for it.
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