One of the more unusual dreams I have ever woven was a particular occasion on the night an uncle of my dreamer — of whom he was quite fond — died.

On rare occasions, a human whose body dies while the spirit is dreaming will linger here in the realm of dreams before continuing on their way to whatever it is that follows. What that might be, I know no more than you, except that the world of dreams lies somewhere between the two. On occasions, a loved one with particularly strong mortal ties is allowed to visit the dreams of another during their brief stay here.

This was such a case. I only spoke to his uncle briefly, but he seemed kind, and asked that he might visit his favorite nephew. Knowing how worried my dreamer was about this uncle’s failing health, I could not bring myself to reject such a request.

I wove a dream for the two at the deathbed, but with rooms adjacent containing choice scenes from their past times together. My dreamer was overjoyed when his uncle rose from his sickbed, the picture of renewed health remembered from his childhood, and walked with him through those happy places. They spoke for some short while, and said parting words, after which the visitor left the dream, thanked me, and bid me a polite farewell.

He added, as a parting comment, an innocent request full of danger he could not have realized: “You seem like a nice person. Take good care of the boy for me.”

Having been left by his uncle for the last time, sadness overtook my dreamer. His tears consumed him in this nameless shadow of a hospital.

I had intended to let him alone for the remaining portion of the night, but I found myself unable to bear watching him sobbing alone, and so took the part of a nurse to comfort him. Being a dream, and with the idea of familiarity subtly imbued, he took my hands and cried on my shoulder while the hospital faded to a garden, bathed in the gentle warmth of the sun.

A heavy-handed sylph might have tried to distract him with other feelings or locales, but I only took him in my arms and held him.

After a time, he had exhausted his tears and looked up at me in thanks. The sharp cut of affection that struck me with his gaze, his hands in mine, was so unexpected that I broke the dream immediately, sending him off to wake, no doubt to have his sadness renewed.