San Diego Sunset

At some point in each of our lives, if we're lucky, we become receptive to the messages of the universe. We must then choose between living or merely existing. This is a tale of such choosing. Never underestimate the power of dreams.

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The story's finale is captured below in the illustration by the incomparable pattydraws:

EXCERPT after the cut...

"No," she groaned as sleep escaped into the dawn. "Don't go!" Remnants of the dream teased her consciousness. She shivered as she pushed the sheets, damp from her perspiration, aside and rose on shaky legs. The dream was always more vivid toward the middle of each month, as if the date carried some mysterious power. The mildest versions simply contained an image of the sun setting into the sea, obviously the west coast. As the month progressed, however, they would grow in duration and intensity until she'd wake with his name on her lips, the pulses of her orgasm fading. The name she could never recapture, but the touch and the scent and the sound of him were as memorable as the sight. His words, spoken into her ear with an urgency bordering on desperation, echoed in her mind: Come to me. His skin smelled of the sea, as if he'd been in the water and dried by the sun, and he tasted of her sex mingled with his own sweet salt.

Grabbing the notepad and pen from her nightstand, she rapidly jotted down a couple new clues as to the location: a hang glider coasting lazily overhead; a winding path, with occasional rough stairs, along a steep hillside; and dark sands on the beach at its base. She shook her head in frustration as the images dissipated leaving behind only a pervasive longing. There was no doubt in her mind that the place was real. She would find it eventually, and when she did, she'd go there. It was crazy but, no matter the time or the trouble or the cost, she'd go. The incredible pull left her no alternative. He'd be waiting there for her, on that beach at sunset. Ready and waiting. The thought warmed the embers of her climax.

Detouring only long enough to start a pot of coffee, she carried her laptop onto the deck wiped the dew off a chair while the machine whirred to life. The Internet thus far had not been much help, but armed with new information she pecked a string of key words into the search box and sent it into the ether with a muttered prayer. The results were encouraging: down from 8,160 hits to just under five hundred. On a whim, she added the word "California" to the query, since it occupied such a large expanse of the Pacific coast, and resubmitted. There! On the very first page, the words jumped out at her: Torrey Pines Gliderport. So THAT was what the sign said; the sign which would never come into focus in her dreams.

When her head began to swim, she realized she'd been holding her breath. Fear mingled with anticipation, causing a tingly pressure in her sternum which radiated outward. She felt on the verge of a life-changing discovery, and with trembling hands she placed the laptop on the glass patio table as if it'd suddenly become too hot to touch. After all these months of searching, piecing the puzzle together, she somehow knew that once she clicked that link, nothing would ever be the same.