The Mare

Velvet

I dreamed that I woke up and it was day, but only for me; that it was light for me and dark for Paul and Ginger and they were sleeping. I got up and walked through their house, looking at everything: the fruit in the bowls, the colored curtains, the paintings and tiny giraffe toys on the windowsill. I went out into their yard and looked at Paul’s garden; in the plants and flowers I saw a trapdoor, and I knew that it was the door to hell. I was scared, but then I realized that my grandfather was there, in the backyard. Don’t be afraid, he said. The devil isn’t paying attention — now is your chance. I’ll guard the door.

“Grandfather,” I said. “Why are you telling me to go to hell?”

Because someone you love is there and she is in danger of being lost.

“Who is it?”

I can’t tell you.

“Is she evil?”

No. But she is close to evil. You can help her because you call to the good in her. You have to hurry. She is getting more lost every second.

And so I did. I opened the door and I went down the stairs. It was a long stair, and there were a lot of floors with weird things happening on them. But that is all I remember.