The early morning breeze raced in the sky, descending and lifting any of the very few dead leaves along the street or in the trees. It flew down the road, taking the bird’s chirps and songs with it as it glided along the ground. A dove’s cooing was one of the sounds traveling the breeze. The bird was perched up on the branch of a young elm tree by the street, hopping on the branches to reach a point to glide down with the wind. It jumped into the air and glided down to the curb underneath the tree to peck at the seeds on the road. It picked up and ate a couple before it flew to a gutter by a window, landing on the edge of it. It traveled down to its nest, where three little hatchlings, each vying for some of the food. It dropped crop milk in each of its chicks' mouths, but it almost flew off when the faint sound of buzzing startled it.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Grace reared up in her bed and in a heartbeat, breathing like an overheated dog. She stayed like that, staring at nothing, until she managed to calm her breath and nerves. She pulled her hand up to her forehead, swatting away cold sweat as well as a few stray locks of dark brown hair. She took a moment to breathe before feeling her pulse.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

She wanted to scold herself, but she didn’t have the energy to. She sighed shakily and already started trying to forget the memory-turned-nightmare had happened at all, something that has started to become more apparent. It was the fourth time that same dream happened in a week.

Grace looked out the window and saw the dove on her gutter, sitting on the nest and looking curiously into the window. She remembered the alarm was still going off after a moment and turned it off as she got out of bed. She patted her sleeping great dane, Ginger, as it slept in its dog bed, and she stumbled tiredly into her bathroom...

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