thejunipertree | (no subject)

After coming home a bit early from a markedly crap day at work, I dormouse-slept from the hours of six and nine.

Dreams were shifting and uneasy, with occasional half-rousing because one of the cats had decided that sitting on my back was the new black.

Last night, I dreamt of receiving a message on my answering machine. Fear, mixed with blind hope and disbelief.

Her voice on the line, sounding exactly like I can't remember when I'm awake. And not the sickly, thin croak that it had become towards the end, the rattling whine that stiffened my back and raised my hackles every time I heard it. That sound would make me feel like such an absolutely shit daughter because I resented her for being so dependant on me.

It was so fucking clear and true. Her real voice.

I've missed you, honey. Meet me at the church around eight.

Waking with shaking hands and the crushing feeling of it's not real almost caused me to call off the day and go back to bed. But, I didn't.