Carlos stopped in front of an old-style villa. Pink roses were growing outside, and the lawn was meticulously maintained. He looked up at the first window on the second floor and willed the drapes to open. Alas, he was no magician, and they did not bend to his will. He sighed as he whispered his love’s name: “Crystal….”

He assumed that she was asleep, and he didn’t dare wake her. Instead, he thought - I wonder what she dreams about, and if she dreams of me. This line of inquiry was ...