Last Night's Dream

I'm standing in the doorway to our house. From the sharp angles of the shadows, I'd guess that the afternoon light is about to die, and the leaves pooled on the top step indicate it's fall.

The house is ours, but I do not recognize some of the furnishings. There's a painting on the wall that looks like something my wife would buy, but I haven't seen it before. 

I have time traveled again, and this time I am in the future.

Daphne is unloading the dishwasher, and as I enter the kitchen she doesn't turn to me. I can't feel the presence of the third member of our family, so I say, "I don't see Charlotte."

With a voice that is slow and tired, Daphne replies, "You just have to call her."  The answering machine has been replaced with a wall-mounted box that glows with a soft, white light. Again, without looking at me, Daphne waves her hand in front of the box and whispers, "Call Char."

Within seconds I can hear Charlotte sliding on her bottom, bouncing down the carpeted steps from upstairs. As she wheels into the kitchen, Charlotte spins, dances, and sings, "Hellloooo Dadddeeee!" It's a performance that I've seen before, and it makes me smile, but something is wrong.

When Charlotte asks me how school was today, her eyes are looking over my shoulder. And her body position doesn't match mine, either. Although the house is fitted with appliances that are smaller, smarter, and more streamlined - I don't see a TV anywhere - Charlotte still appears to be four years old.

This isn't Charlotte. I'm looking at a hologram. It's a 3D rendering of a video I shot years ago. The clarity and sound is astounding, but this illusion is not my little girl. Why did Daphne call this instead of the real Charlotte? Where is she? What has happened to my daughter? 

Daphne has left the room, and I've yet to see her face. I don't want to. I'm afraid of what I'll read there...

It was such a relief to wake up, walk to Charlotte's door, and hear her snores rumbling in her bed.

I used to think the dreams where I'm teaching without pants were terrible. Although nothing really happened in last night's dream, it was the worst one I've had in years.