Lina slept soundly for the first time in many nights. There was no nightmare, no screaming woman, no fires and no weeping in her sleep.
She dreamt more vividly of the wedding day.
It was the same image as the one in the photo frame next to their bed.
The two of them, just married, their hands interlocked with matching silver wedding bands.
But in her dream, this picture was moving.
It was a real memory.
She was wearing a short peach frock, her hair natural and way falling in waves down her back. It was a little shorter than it was right now, but it still flowed softly like the ripples in a brooke.
Her face was radiant and shining, even with only a little bit of makeup. Her skin was clear like the petals of an oriental lily and her eyes were like deep pools looking at the man who was to be her husband in total adoration.
