Edd A Fictional Narrative

Hudson rarely dreamed, or he rarely remembered the dreams he had. Sometimes he would wake up in a cold sweat and he’d have to rush to the bathroom to empty his stomach. Tonight, though, his dreams were pleasant, achingly so.

First, he saw Edda, as she had been when they were children. Her hair crowned her head and when the light caught it, it burned it into a hazy orange. A heavy coat was wrapped around her shoulders and a long blue scarf wrapped smoothly along her neck. Her cheeks were rosy, the cold nipping at her skin. She was smiling, so dazzling it hurt. She reached for him, grabbing his hand, and pulled him along as she ran.

Piles of snow and houses flew past as they went, their feet soaking with the slushy mud on the ground. Her hand was warm despite her lack of gloves and the harsh cold that roiled up Hudson’s body. The road beneath them lost its traction and broke apart into dirt and earth. The houses and shops were falling away, slowly being replaced by snow so tall Hudson felt like he had stepped into a room. He gripped Edda’s hand
And having her see him as he was; a boy who was afraid. A boy who needed someone to tell him it was okay, or maybe that it wasn’t, but it would be.

Darkness creeped in at the edge of Hudson’s vision, threatening to sweep the dream into a sea of nothing. Hudson pressed his hands to Edda’s and willed the darkness at bay. It slinked back slightly, letting blue and white move back into place, but it stayed just at the edge of everything.

In front of them, tall and imposing, was a red barn. Its paint was flaking off and the huge handles of the doors were rusted and hanging, swaying slightly in the morning wind. Tall pine trees sat as guards around the barn, taller than the barn itself. Their pine needles dropped every so often, gliding swiftly to the ground and roof and scattered themselves