Dreams of mourning bright and comforting, everything is white. Face buried in a pillow, first conscious thought was her smell. Home. She’s not there, whoever she is. I know who she is. Confusion curiosity and finally understanding in the form of a sound. Foot steps coming from the hall. I have never been here before but its so familiar. I know where things are and I know to turn off the alarm but I don’t know who for. Some how I know. I roll back over take a deep breath and stretch. After getting just the smallest bit at ease in what must be my new life I hear a voice. A voice I know, one that peaks my interests, among other things. All I see is her hair, she’s looking down at something. She looks up, time stops, she smiles, time remains still. And in that stillness there is peace. Nothing matters for that exact second. That is the best moment of my life and it happens every three to four months.