a Chuck Wendig prompt (202 words) - here
“Pablo? Wake up, you’re gonna be late again.”
Only one person says my name like that. That soft, honey like sound, the smile at the end of the sentence. She always used her smile as punctuation.
My love is gone, and I’m alone with a big ass hangover, sprawled on the couch. “Gimme five more,” I mumble out of habit, only five more minutes…Damn Carnival, I drank enough to pass out. How did I make it back then?
I try to remember her scent and pretend I can reach out, and touch her hand, to hear her breathe. Maria…
But she’s gone.
I had the strangest dream. I have made a bargain with an old gipsy last night. My smile and my soul for another body and soul. I still hear the old man laughing his head off…
“Come on, hon.” The couch moves, a weight shifts to hoover over mine. Fingertips and a brush of coconut scented hair brush my cheek? What? “Did I scare you?” I… I can’t believe it!
“Maria… How?” She’s here? Her warmths under my palm, her face… It’s real!
“Oh, sleepyhead. It was just a bad dream.”