Bright flashes woke him. He’d drawn the shades over every single window. The sharp light was still bright enough to shake him. Bright blue. Electric.

Though his bones refused to cooperate with the notion of moving, he forced himself up to the side of the bed. Water was free. Tomorrow was free. Sleep, however, comes with a price. At this time of night, five minutes awake costs a half hour of sleep. But the call of water forced his feet to touch the floor.

After relieving himself he washed his face. He filled the glass next to the sink and felt the coolness of the water slide down his esophagus and into his gut. He could feel the cool move through his blood and into his bones. And he opened his eyes.

From the corner of the mirror something moved. Whipping his head around he saw what looked like a small white dress dart into the kitchen. a giggle.

Annoyed, “Miss Clem, I dont think this is appropriate”

He sauntered into the kitchen. Lightning.

No one.

Giggling.

“Miss Clem, this is not…”

Lightning

Her visage aside the telephone.

She points

He finds his hand raising the earpiece when he notices the wall upon which the phone is attached.

Across the azure plaster glowing golden figures roil and interlace. They are names.

In gold, names and numbers wash over the walls

Script, all capitals, phonetic, signatures wash over and under, across, through.

Suddenly one name appears above the telephone

“William Rogers Murray”

He awoke to laser white light shining through the cracks of the the blinds. The air, crisp and cool. For a moment he lost himself in the dawn. As the dream began to fade into an sea of waking thoughts his body automatically threw the covers off and stood up.

She said there might be treasure today.