The Woman of His Dreams

Phillip prayed for night to fall sooner. He rushed his way through the shower and scarfed down his microwave dinner. He’d get to see her again soon. A pair of basketball shorts was all he had on when he finally lay down his head. Before long, he dozed off, and found bliss. Every night he dreamed of the same thing. A woman, one he’d never met when awake. This was always the highlight of his day. This time, he found himself in a field of sunflowers, the sun shining down and kissing his skin. There were a few dotted trees, but other than that, flowers reached to the horizon in every direction. A breeze brushed his face, pulling his head to his left. There she was, picking sunflowers in a blue sundress, almost matching the sky itself. He walked toward her and she looked up with a smile. She ran to meet his embrace.

“Phil. I’ve missed you so much.” She buried her head into his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. His hands clasped her waist and he kissed her.

“I missed you, too.” He replied as he stared into her soft brown eyes. Her smile was wide and her expression excited, as her eyes darted around his face. Her chocolate brown skin seemed to glow in the sunlight. She was perfect.

“I picked here for you.” She held out a handful of sunflowers. Phil took them and smelled them, tucking one behind her ear.

“They’re beautiful.” He continued to stare. For a week now, Phil had anticipated each night with butterflies in his stomach. Every night she was here waiting for him. He only wished he could see her during the day too. They were together for what felt like hours. They sat under a tree and he told her about his boss, Josh, how he demanded reports be done sooner, but his coworkers worked slow. Except for Laura. Everyone in the office hated Laura because she acted like she was Josh's own right hand. Some even thought they were having an affair. Then, Phil brought up this rude man on the subway, who pushed past him and tons of other people and yelled when he still missed his train. And school was no better. Josh was tired after work and still had to finish some school work to get his degree. Fouché was his only respite. She listened and nodded and comforted him.

“I’ll always be here for you. Whenever you sleep, I’ll be here.” She told him, running her fingers through his hair. He awoke, alone in his bed, his alarm ringing. He picked up his phone and noticed that he was late. He was still tired, but dragged himself out of bed. His dream quickly left his memory, but one thing remained. He knew Fouché was there, waiting for him. He hurriedly put on clothes and ran out of the house. He checked his bank account while navigating the always busy street. He could afford a cup of coffee. He knew he’d need it. From there, his day was the same as always. Catch the subway to work, get yelled at by his boss, go home, do school work, etc. Through the day, he only thought of his nighttime love.

That night, sleep seemed to evade him. He lay, tossing and turning, thinking about the woman of his dreams. Eventually, he won and dozed off. He stood outside of the coffee shop that he had visited that morning. Through a window, he could see Fouché gripping a cup with both hands, blowing the steam that rose. She saw him and she waved. He entered the shop and sat across from her and a faceless barista approached.

“Can I get you anything?” They asked. Their voice was indistinct and muffled.

“No thank you.” Phil had never been much of a coffee drinker. The barista walked away.

“Are you ok?” Fouché asked. Phil nodded.

“I’m fine, why?” He replied, getting comfortable in his chair.

“You just seem a little bit off. Stressful day?”

“No more stressful than usual. Although I almost broke my PlayStation controller earlier.” Phil said with a laugh. And from there, their conversation continued as usual. They joked and Phil talked about life. They stared into each others eyes and kissed over the table. All was right and peaceful until a barista approached. The only sound the barista made was an alarm. It was Phil’s alarm. He looked at the barista, whose face was Phil’s phone. Then he woke up. He was even later and more tired than he had been yesterday. His boss was even angrier today than he was yesterday, too.

“Philip,” Josh approached as Phil settled into his desk, “this is twice in a row that you’ve been late.” He cut straight to the chase. Laura peeked at the two over her computer screen.

“Yeah. My bad. Had a hard time getting to sleep last night.” Phil replied. Josh didn’t want to hear any excuses.

“I don’t care when you go to sleep. I don’t even care when you wake up. I care about when you get here. Next time you’re late it’ll be a write-up.” Josh didn’t wait for a response before walking off. Asshole. Phil thought as he looked at Laura, who turned away, pretending to work. Phil began working, but before long he was daydreaming, and his eyes got heavy. He shook himself awake, but struggled to stay awake throughout the day. When he got home, he wasn’t even able to do any of his school work or even eat dinner before laying in his bed. Even then, he couldn’t fall asleep, not fully. He lay there for what felt like minutes, but his phone told him that it had been hours. He turned on his tv and after a while, saw Fouché in bed next to him.

“Took you long enough.” She teased. He looked around, confused at first, but then he realized he’d fallen asleep at some point. Finally.

“Yeah, sorry. I don’t know what’s going on.” He replied. She smiled and lay a hand on his leg.

“It’s ok. As long as I get to see you, I’m happy.” She said. Phil nodded. He didn’t want to talk that night. He pulled Fouché close and held her in his arms. Then, she was gone.

Phil looked around in confusion but only saw the light from the sun in his window, his tv still on, and his phone going dark. He grabbed it, seeing that it was already 10:24 A.M. and he had missed multiple calls from Josh. He called back.

“Where the hell are you?” Josh called. He wasn’t quite yelling, but he was clearly angry.

“Sorry, I got stuck on the subway in a dead zone.” Phil through out a quick lie.

“For an hour and a half? You’ve got 10 minutes to be here and when you get here come and find me.” Josh ordered.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” Phil hung up. There was no way he was making it to work in 10 minutes. When he arrived, Laura was there like she was waiting on him. She checked the time and shook her head.

“Josh is waiting on you.” She told him. Phil had barely been able to stay awake on the subway, so when Josh was yelling at him, he swayed where he stood, fighting to keep his eyes open. Then he heard her voice.

“Phil.” Fouché called to him. His eyes shot open and he looked around, frantically.

“I’m right here,” Josh was aggravated. He sighed, “Is everything ok at home, man? Can we help you with anything?” His tone had softened.

“No, I’ve just had a hard time sleeping.” Phil answered honestly.

“Dude, I need you at 100%. We’re already behind on work. Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow, will you be back and ready to work?” Josh seemed genuinely concerned, but Phil knew it was only about work. He nodded anyway.

“Yeah, man. Thanks.” He said.

“It’s fine. If you’re late again, that's your second strike.” Josh warned.

“I know.”

“Alright. Get out of here.” Phil turned and walked out of the office. On his way home he grabbed melatonin and sleeping pills. He hoped that it would help. He sat at his desk and worked on his assignments for school. He kept dozing off, holding down the key he was pressing or mistyping words. Still, he powered through. By the time he was finished, it was dark. He’d eaten as soon as he’d gotten home, but he went to eat again. His oven said 2:47 A.M. There’s no way time had passed that quickly. Two late assignments, then. Phil shrugged as he sat on the couch and took some melatonin and pills.

“Phil.” He heard a voice call. It was Fouché, sitting at Laura’s desk at work. He got up from his couch and rubbed his eyes. Fouché didn’t seem as excited to see him.

“Fouché. When did I fall asleep?” He asked.

“Just a few minutes ago. You’ve been staying up pretty late recently.” She scoffed.

“It’s not my fault. I don’t know why, I just can’t sleep.” He tried to explain.

“Do you not want to see me? You always visit so late and leave so early. You can just ask me to leave.” Phil can tell she was holding back tears.

“No, Ché. You’re the love of my life. Seeing you is the highlight of my day. I want nothing more than to stay with you.” He pleaded.

“Then stay with me. Just a little bit longer.” She said. Before he could answer, he smelled burning.

“What’s that smell?” Phil asked. Fouché was in front of him, her arms wrapped around him.

“Don’t go.” She begged. He held her in return, but remembered.

“Shit. I left the stove on. I’ll be back.” He said.

“Please don’t leave.”

“Fouché, I’m sorry. I have to exist in the real world, too.” He said and she let him go, her face soft and broken.

“Fine.” Was the last thing he heard before he opened his eyes. The sun shone directly into them. He picked up his phone but it was dead. He went to the oven, smoke pooling out of it. It was already nine. He turned it off, not even considering the charred remains of whatever he had made that night. He quickly got dressed and ran out of the house. On the subway, he dozed off, but as his eyes closed, he saw Fouché walking toward him. When he looked up, no one was there. He checked the LED display saying the next station. He’d missed his stop by two. Phil buried his head in his hands and got off of the train at the next stop.

That day was the same. Josh gave him a final warning and he worked the few hours that he could. He knew his next paycheck would suffer. He went home and his apartment still smelled charred. He opened the oven to see black melted plastic, frozen where it had dripped between the rails, and a black lump of charcoal. At least there was no fire. He cleaned it and opened his computer for school. He still struggled to stay awake. He decided he’d just go to sleep early tonight. He took a shower and lay in bed, taking melatonin and sleeping pills before laying in the dark. None of that helped. Still, he rose and turned, and wondered why he couldn’t sleep. He’d set a doctor's appointment in the morning. Finally, he found himself laying on his back in a field of sunflowers. He stood and looked around. There was no one.

“Fouché!” He called out, but got no response. He ran through the field, searching for his love, but he’d gotten no visitors that night. He sat under a tree and cried, until the sun woke him up. Phil’s face was still wet with tears when he finally sat up. It was noon and all that was on his phone was a text message. Don’t bother coming back. We’re gonna have to let you go. It was from Josh. Phil knew that he and Laura were laughing about it.

“Fuck them. And fuck that job.” Phil said out loud. He put on a t- shirt and a pair of sweatpants and left the house, heading straight for the pharmacy. He bought the strongest sleeping pills he could find and some Chai tea. He wouldn’t be able to afford train tickets until the next week, but he needed to get back to Fouché. He needed to apologize. Nothing else mattered. He went straight back home and ripped open the pill bottle, tossing as many in his mouth as could fit. He swallowed them all, then another handful, before drinking some water. He considered taking more, when he started to feel lightheaded. He fell over, laying flat on his back. I’m coming back to you, Fouché. And this time, I’m never leaving. Were Philip’s last thoughts.