Dreaming.

Dear Fleur.
I was bad last night. I stayed up too late reading Jane Eyre and didn't care. I fell asleep with it in my bed.
Only a mile this morning. I have lots of homework to get done. And, it was raining. The perks of October.

I had a dream last night that I was in a different town, sitting in a coffee shop that wasn't Starbucks. I know I was drinking a skinny vanilla latte. And reading Jane Eyre. I had a really pretty copy of it.
I sat in this green chair that I wanted to steal and send back to Mandy because it was her birthday soon or something. It was drawn on my napkin with a nice ink pen so I would remember what it looked like.
I was at the one part in Jane Eyre when Mr.Rochester talks about the string and bleeding and Jane tells him she is poor, obscure, plain, and little, but not soulless and heartless.
I was crying.
I think I frequented this coffee shop and cried over novels quite often, because no one seemed to care.
Except for this one guy.
He had walked in when I wasn't paying attention. I heard the door open, felt the air shift, looked at the bottom of his jeans, and listened to him order his coffee. But other than that, I didn't care about the man who asked for a cup of the house blend.
Till he pulled my book down from my face.
"Are you crying?" He asked it like it was the most surprising thing ever. I think I answered him harshly, and pulled my book back. But in my dream, I felt my face get hot and red. Then he asked me what it was I was reading, and he repeated the title out loud. He apologized for interrupting me and left.
I also left not soon after that. I took my napkin with me. I slipped it under a rubber band that held stacks of letters from Mandy together in my bag. I know they were from Mandy. It was her handwriting.
Then I walked to a bookstore two blocks away to pick up an order of children's books.
He was there when I walked in.
He shrugged his shoulders and I felt my face get red again when I saw what the clerk was wrapping up. A copy of Jane Eyre. The same copy I had. He said something like, "Well, I couldn't really help it." I walked past him still blushing over to the children's section. He thanked the clerk and I heard him running after me.
He held his hand out when he caught me in a corner next to Bemelmans. I don't remember his name. I remember introducing myself though. I looked down at my pants and I remember I had yellow shoes on.
And then he asked me to lunch.

Then I woke up.
Now I need to go get dressed because Roger is in town and we are going to have coffee with him. And I am sweaty and tired.
I need to stop reading Jane Eyre.
-Bell.