Inside a small throne room with four chairs, I opened my eyes and gazed at a lovely face. She had blue eyes, pale skin and supple lips. Through our minds, she whispered, “Take a seat.”
I sat down, trying to turn my head to look around the room. But my neck was stiff. It was clear she wanted me to focus on her.
With one graceful stroke, she removed her face. I studied the shiny metal underneath, the blood vessels around the eyes. “Don’t,” I pleaded. “I’m not ready for this.”
She came forward, inches from my face. I closed my eyes. When I was brave enough to open them again her face was restored. She didn’t smile. She didn’t speak. I woke up with the image of her face imprinted in my mind.