The man in my dreams.

The soft morning light slowly crept through the window of a small apartment in the heart of Paris. The streets were already coming alive with the distant sound of cars, the quiet chatter of people walking to work, and the smell of fresh bread drifting from a nearby bakery. Inside the apartment, a young woman suddenly opened her eyes. Her heart was beating faster than usual. Amélie Laurent sat up in her bed, trying to catch her breath. She pressed her hand gently against her chest as she looked around the quiet room. Everything was normal. The white curtains moved slowly with the morning breeze, and the alarm clock beside her bed blinked 7:02 a.m. But the dream she had just woken from felt anything but normal. For weeks now, Amélie had been dreaming about the same man. Every night, it was the same strange yet beautiful dream. She would find herself walking along the Seine River under the golden lights of Eiffel Tower glowing in the distance. The air would be cool, and the city would feel calm and peaceful. Then she would see him. The mysterious man always stood a few steps away from her. Tall, calm, and gentle-looking. His dark hair moved slightly in the wind, and his eyes seemed to hold a quiet warmth that made her feel safe. But the strange thing was that she had never seen his face clearly. Just when she tried to get closer to him or ask his name, she would wake up. Every single time. Amélie sighed softly and ran her fingers through her long chestnut-brown hair. “Why do I keep dreaming about you?” she murmured quietly to herself. She had never believed much in dreams having meaning. To her, dreams were simply the mind playing tricks while people slept. But this dream felt different. It felt real… almost as if the man actually existed somewhere in the city. She pushed the thought aside and got out of bed. Today was going to be a busy day. Amélie worked at a small but charming bookstore not far from the famous Notre-Dame Cathedral. The shop was known for its old romantic novels and poetry books, and she loved spending her days surrounded by stories about love, adventure, and destiny. Little did she know that her own story was about to begin. After getting dressed in a simple cream-colored blouse and a light blue skirt, Amélie stepped outside her apartment building. The cool Parisian morning air greeted her softly. The streets of Paris were as beautiful as always. Couples walked hand in hand, cafés were opening their doors, and street musicians were already preparing their instruments. As she walked toward the bookstore, she couldn’t stop thinking about the dream again. The mysterious man. His calm presence. And the strange feeling that somehow… she was meant to meet him. Amélie shook her head slightly and smiled at herself. “It’s just a dream,” she whispered. But deep inside her heart, something told her that the dream was only the beginning. And somewhere in the vast romantic city of Paris, the man she had been dreaming about was closer than she could ever imagine.