Daniel's Dream by Peter Michael Rosenberg

rapid.
     
    ‘Dan? What is it? What’s wrong?’ Lisanne was sitting up, squinting uncomfortably.
     
    ‘Uh... nothing,’ said Daniel. He was thoroughly disoriented and confused, but sensed that it was important not to alarm Lisanne. ‘It’s okay, love, nothing at all. Bad dream. Sorry I woke you.’ He leant across and kissed her lightly on the cheek, then turned the light off immediately, to assure her that there really was no need to worry.
     
    But Lisanne was not so easily mollified. On many occasions in the past few months she had been woken in the night to find her once calm and contented husband in distress. In fact, his torment was often so advanced that for several minutes after waking, despite her greatest efforts, he remained inconsolable. Admittedly, it was a couple of weeks since he had had a truly bad attack, but other occasions were still too fresh in her mind to allow her to dismiss his claims so easily. She also knew that to show any indication of panic was to court trouble.
     
    Timing her moves carefully, she paused, then reached out and gently ruffled his hair. She then waited a further few moments before speaking so that it would not sound as if she were panicked or being pushy.
     
    ‘Are you sure you’re okay, Dan?’ she whispered, her tone even and calm. ‘We can talk if you like.’
     
    ‘I’m fine, really. It’s just the same old nightmare,’ said Daniel, hoping to reassure her. ‘Go back to sleep.’
     
    Lisanne hesitated, She did not want to pry; she had leamt that, since the accident, if Daniel was in one of his uncommunicative moods, pushing him to talk would only aggravate him.
     
    ‘Well, if you’re sure...’
     
    ‘Just a silly old dream, Lisanne. Please don’t worry.’ Daniel leant over once more and gave her a kiss. ‘Now go to sleep or else you’ll be a wreck in the morning.’
     
    Lisanne bit down gently on her lower lip to stop herself from prying further. She turned on her side and repeated a now familiar mantra to herself several times in order to stay calm: ‘He’s safe and fine and all is well, he’s safe and fine and all is well, he’s safe and fine and all is well... Over and over she repeated the words, silently in her head, an exercise in hope, a prayer for the living.
     
    She could not now remember when she had first started using the repetitions, but she knew that at times like these it was the only way she could stop herself fretting. ‘He’s safe and fine and all is well,’ she said again, hoping that whatever magic was contained within these few simple words was working at full power. In the morning she would have forgotten all about this; in the mad rush to get up, get dressed and go to work, the disturbance of the night would fade into insignificance. But in the meantime, Daniel, his fears, worries and concerns preoccupied her. Even his dreams, it seemed, had become her responsibility.
     
    Certain that she would get nothing more in the way of explanation that night, Lisanne stroked Daniel’s cheek once more. Then, with a whispered “Goodnight”, she turned over, sighed silently, and prayed that sleep would come quickly, so that she would not have to spend the night fretting and worrying like an old fool.
     
     
     
    Daniel did not know why he had lied to Lisanne. He had long ago told her the contents of his regular, nightly roller-coaster ride, had explained what it felt like being forced to turn somersaults in an endless procession, about the forces which slammed him up against the walls, only to peel him off, roll him up and send him spinning over and over yet again to meet the same fate against another immovable object. He had not shied from describing in detail the experiences of his terrifying nightmare, despite the fact that it could only unsettle her.
     
    So why did he now keep secret from her the extraordinary contents of these new dreams? Twice running he had