[Shift]

Cathy awoke with a dull headache, greeted by the monotonous beeping of a life support machine. Her body felt as though she were weighed down by boulders, but she managed to pull herself into a seated position on the hospital bed—rubbing her icy palm against her forehead. The empty room was decorated in muted colors of off-white and pale blue. The environment invited an intrusive feeling of dread—but she found a shimmer of comfort in the bright rays of sunlight spread across her bed and the hospital floor.

“It’s… morning?” She whispered hoarsely.

Looking out at the blue sky through the window, a ray of sunlight striped across her squinted hazel eyes. She questioned whether or not she was still dreaming, but the distant chirping of birds outside brought a reassuring embrace of solace either way.

A nurse knocked briefly before opening the door, carrying in a tray lined with packs of saline. She perked with surprise, but immediately stifled her excitement—careful not to distress Cathy by shouting.

“Good morning, Cathy. I’m glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Cathy traced her hands across her paper gown and set them against her thighs. Her hair slipped down from her shoulders, covering her face from the sun. “Was I asleep all this time?”

“You were in a comatose state for about five days. Your parents called an ambulance when they couldn’t wake you up for work last week. Your parents and grandmother will be relieved to hear that you’re finally awake! I’ll call to let them know as soon as possible—”

“F–Five days…?” Cathy said, her voice tinged with unease.

The nurse responded with a nod.

“...I want to go home.”

The nurse paused, before lifting her hand with an understanding but objecting smile. “I get that, I really do. But there are some more tests we’d like to run first before you’re discharged. It’s for your own safety. We want to make sure that whatever caused your comatose state won’t reoccur after you go home.”

Cathy brushed her hair behind her ears, then nodded hesitantly.

The nurse set down her tray on the table at the foot of her bed, “The doctor and your family will be in shortly.”

…

Forty-five minutes passed. The nurse provided Cathy with apple sauce, water, and a button to alert the nurses if she was beginning to feel ill.

Her father entered the room first, wearing a full dark navy suit and a black tie. A hint of guilt crept its way into Cathy’s stomach. It was apparent that her father had just come from work, and at Wall Street, his absence surely wasn’t going to bode well. Her mother followed, dressed in a floral dress and blue denim jacket.

“Cathy!” said her father, he ran forward wrapping her in a large bear hug. The mother’s expression melted in relief, she stepped forward to join her husband.

“Mom… Dad…” Cathy whispered. “I’m so sorry I scared you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” her father replied. “We’re so happy that you’re finally awake. Ever since you went under, we’ve been worried sick. We’ve been praying for you. The doctors had no idea when you were going to wake up again.”

Cathy wrapped her arms around her parents, “I…”

She stopped herself. Of course she was happy to see them, and relieved to be awake, but her mind could hardly contain everything she wanted to tell them. She didn’t even know where to start. Perhaps she could mention how she slept for five days, but still didn’t feel like she had a wink of sleep. She wanted to convey how vivid her dream felt, and explain how it didn’t feel like a dream at all. When she had dreams before, she would wake up the next morning confident that everything she had experienced was nothing more than an illusion. This dream was different. Although parts of it were still a little blurry, it felt no different from real life.

She bargained with herself—surely they would believe her if she told them she was sincere. They were her parents after all.

The doctor knocked on the open door, his shoulder leaned against the frame. “Welcome back, Cathy. I’m happy to see that your parents are already here.” The doctor entered the room, greeting Cathy’s father and mother with a strong handshake, “I’m Dr. Kulwaltz, I’m the one assigned with overseeing Cathy’s treatment.” He pivoted towards Cathy, “Before I begin, is there anything causing you pain or discomfort that I should know about?”

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“Uhh… No… I kinda have a headache, but that’s it.”

“Good to hear!” the doctor flipped through the pages on his clipboard, scanning the contents rapidly. “Well, your vitals all seem to be normal. Nothing of note there. Blood samples all came back clean. Do you remember what you were doing yesterday before you went to bed? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“No.”

“Tell the doctor about your day, sweetie,” Cathy’s mom implored. “Maybe something important happened, something you’re not thinking about.”

Cathy cupped her hands together, placing them between her legs. “No… everything was normal. I went to the store, and then cleaned my room. Cooked dinner… The rest of the day, I just watched The Bachelor with mom and meemaw.”

A troubled look sprawled across the doctor’s face, which he quickly swapped with a reassuring grin. “Have you been feeling stressed lately? Perhaps an increase in hours worked or feelings of fatigue?”

“N–No,” She said regrettably. She felt as though she were giving the wrong answer, but it was truthful, nonetheless.

Her statement sat like soured milk. The doctor frowned, “Alright. There are still more tests I would like to run before you are released, if that’s okay. As long as everything checks out, you should be home by later this evening.”

“Doctor,” said Cathy. The doctor lowered his clipboard. “Is it normal to dream while in a coma?”

“Err… it varies. Dreams and hallucinations can occur depending on the level of brain activity. Why do you ask? Did you experience a dream while unconscious?”

“Yes,” she said, “but it didn’t feel like it was a dream at all. It felt completely real. I could walk around, feel things and taste things. It feels more like a memory than an actual dream—like I was transported into a different world where I believed me and my family were nobles.” She pointed towards her father, “You were in it, so was mom and meemaw. And…”

She didn’t continue. They stared at her more with pity than actual belief. That was the look she was afraid of—the look that they didn’t believe a single word. She gently lowered her arm onto the bed.

The doctor scribbled more notes onto his clipboard before setting it down on the table, “I understand that you experienced a lifelike dream which engaged all of your senses—so now you are having a difficult time discerning the dream from reality. It may take some time to adjust, but rest assured, what you experienced was nothing more than a convincing illusion crafted within your brain. You are in the real world now Cathy, and you’re going to be alright.”

“...Okay.”

“I’ll send in the nurse in a few minutes to collect some more blood samples, in the meantime I’ll leave you with your family.”

With that, the doctor left the room, the door clicking behind him. In the stagnant silence that remained, her father was the first to speak, “Meemaw will be here soon, Cathy. I hate to leave, but I really have to get back to work.”

“I know,” said Cathy. “But, before you leave, I wanted to ask you and mom something…”

“Alright,” her father said, leaning in. “What is it?”

Cathy raised her head, “Do either of you know someone named Daymond Miller?”

—break—

[Shift — Daymond]

It had been three hours of me sitting in the coffee shop—and it was three hours of no luck. Every traveler that passed by had no leads on where I might find Kingsley’s Dreamer—or at least, they pretended to have no idea.

Not to mention that business in the coffee shop seemed to be unusually slow. The barista had told me that she usually gets about 50 customers coming and going on a daily basis, but the sun was setting and I had seen no more than 20.

The man sitting by the register didn’t move from his seat since I came in. A part of me questioned what he was doing hanging around this place for 3 hours instead of hiking out before it got dark, but then again, I was no different—I’m sure he had his reasons. It wasn’t like he would talk to me and tell me why.

At least the place was hospitable. I enjoyed the smell of coffee and air conditioning. But if the shop were to close, I would have to find somewhere to camp outside until morning—then hope I could catch a useful traveler the next day. Wasn’t a great plan, but it was better than summoning the willpower to hike through 90 miles of burning sand.

Luckily for me, I wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

A prison cart being led by two camels arrived right outside the shop. A sun-beaten man in a sunhat and colorful poncho hopped down from the reins, and tied them to a spoke right next to the outdoor tables.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead after feeling the cool breeze pouring in through the open door, and approached the front counter—where he was greeted cheerfully by the barista.

“Welcome in! How can I serve you?”

The man fumbled around in his pocket, eventually pulling out a leather wallet, “Can I get 2 large shaken espressos with oat milk and a medium lemonade refresher.”

“Coming right up! Your total is $12.43, sir,” the cashier pressed a button on the register, triggering the shelf to slide open. “It’s only been a week! They have you walking back over the desert again?”

“Yeah… I’ve got a long night ahead of me…” The man flipped through the bills in his wallet, took out a few, and slid them across the counter. “Do you mind if I use your restroom?”

“Not at all. It’s down the hall to the left.”

As the man disappeared into the hallway, I took the opportunity to peer over at the cart of captives. Through the window, I could see the disheveled heads of a handful of men poking up between the metal bars. Once I was certain that the transporter was out of sight, I slid out from my table and headed for the cage.