I’m not sure when exactly I fell asleep that night. But I can say it was
Sometimes after midnight...maybe bonefish. It was one of those blissful
experiences of slipping out of a tired mind and into the world of wonderful
dreams. I loved the way it started, where I ran through a field of golden wheat up
to my waist, and Rocco waiting for me, arms open wide and his muscular chest
exposed within his unbuttoned long-sleeved shirt, white—like what the men in
France wore two centuries ago.
But then something happened in the dream. Darkness descended rapidly from
an ominous cloud above, and then Racco turned away in terror and ran. He ran
for his life, screaming, while the darkness increased and filled my vision. Brisk,
Frigid air embraced me, and I felt the icy surface of a stone floor
