Dreams. Pt. 2

Still seated opposite of the woman with the bright hair and eyes she never breaks her gaze. She knows me, and every piece of my being. Who I was, who I am and who I will become in this lifetime. With a slight nod she gestures to my left. Looking down I see his hand on mine. Kind, soft hands twice the size of my own playing with a small piece of ribbon. Tying it first into a knot then into a bow and holding it out in front of him for the young chocolate eyed girl to pull on, only to undo the entire thing and start again. He isn’t a small man in stature, he’s quiet, reserved, olive complexion with dark brown eyes and short soft brown hair. He doesn’t break eye contact with the small girl across from him, smiling and laughing at her they exchange words that I cannot understand. With a swift motion of her hand the woman at the end of the table takes me to a place that I have never seen before. Here, in this place I am surrounded by bars, ankles chained to them in a seemingly endless tangle of iron. There in front of me stands the man that was seated to my left, the tall, heavier man with the kindest brown eyes I have ever seen. He stares back at me in adoration, pure undying love and within me I cannot find reason for this. He does not speak, he only takes my hand in his, opens it and with his other hand places a piece of ribbon into my palm. I look down in total confusion to see a key tied to the end of that ribbon. This key, isn’t of any material I have ever seen before. It is beautiful, amazing. I look up to ask the man “what is this?” but he is gone, I am still here, surrounded in chains behind harsh, thick bars of steel. I glance back to the key in my hand, around it the soft pale ribbon made of the softest material ever to touch my skin. With my other hand I pick up the key- at first appearing a translucent purple, now with the soft light bouncing off of it, appears to be blue, and then pink and then translucent purple again. It appears to be glass, a key made of glass? Making no sense what so ever I slump to the ground with the ridged clank of metal surrounding me when I realize, the only lock on my chains appears to match the key in which I hold in my very own hand.