By Nicola Mabbott
The dream was always the same. He was standing in the hallway of his old flat; the flat his ex-girlfriend, Jennifer, now shared with her husband. First the voices outside getting louder, then the key turning in the lock. The door about to open.
And then the terrible feeling he was about to be found out.
Each time he woke, alone, in his large empty house, his heart was still racing. Some details in the dream changed, but never the way he felt: empty, alone, like an outsider, like an intruder in his own home, except it wasn’t his home now. Jennifer had told him to leave two years before. She said he couldn’t give her what she wanted.
Now she was married to another man, and they were expecting their first child together.
Argomenti: fiction, nicola mabbott, the girl of his dreams
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