“Where do we go when we sleep?”
“We simply disappear.”
“And where do we go?”
“I’m not sure. In fact, I don’t think we actually go anywhere. We simply cease to be.”
“Would you go after me if I disappeared?”
She was lying on the blanket, staring at him with sleepy eyes. Her voice sounded far, as if she was already drifting in her sleep and hadn’t realised yet. Tired beams of sunlight came down through the thick foliage of their tree, drawing patterns and white shades on her oblivious shape.
He was sitting next to her, watching the clouds pass by through the narrow spaces between the branches and the leaves. From time to time, he turned to an old notebook and wrote something down, as if the cracks in the clouds held the answer to some unuttered question.
“I wouldn’t. We would disappear together.”
She sat up, suddenly woken up by the gravitas of his words. She looked deep into his eyes, trying to peer into the impenetrable mask that bore his gaze.
For the briefest of instants, the shadow of a smile danced on his lips.
“You lying bastard” she smiled back “you would probably start taking notes in that old notebook of yours while I vanish in my sleep.”
They remained silent for a while, reading each other’s eyes.
“Perhaps” he finally said.
He closed his notebook and lay next to her.