THIRD WRITING PRIZE WINNER –
SUMMER 2022
is LAUREN BOLOS
of Greer, South Carolina – USA
THE SUBCONSCIOUS NEVER SLEEPS
By Lauren Bolos
Ian sat in a board room filled with men in suits. They spoke of graphs and percentages. He was listening to his colleague present on the current presentation slide when he heard her whisper in his ear, “No one touches me like you do,” her lips brushing against him sent a shiver down his spine. He quickly looked around to see if anyone noticed in the room, but of course, they didn’t because she wasn’t there.
Ian stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work. He planned on making one of his favorite meals, but as he tried to make a mental list of everything he needed, he saw her down the aisle. Her long, chestnut brown waves swayed as she twirled around. His hand reached out to her and he twirled her into him. She let her head tip back and laugh. He turned around to see if anyone else was in the aisle, but they weren’t. He reminded himself he was in the middle of shopping as he went to the next aisle, not turning back to see if she was still there.
Ian went on a run when he got home. He did five miles and beat his personal record time. He loved running because lately it cleared his head and helped him not to see or hear her. He was out of breath as he walked into his house. He lay down on the cold, hardwood floor to cool off, feeling the endorphins go off inside. “Looks like you had a good run,” her voice sounded next to him. His stomach dropped as he turned to see her face next to his as she lay on the ground beside him, her body in the opposite direction with her head next to his. Her big, brown eyes looked into his. “We have to finish talking about our dreams,” she said excitedly, even though it was 5 a.m. and they hadn’t slept all night.
“It was Hawaii, wasn’t it?” he knowingly asked.
“Yes, now tell me all the things we are going to do in Hawaii.”
“Besides going surfing and eating amazing food? Hmmm, I am going to have my own café and serve breakfast all day.”
“Mmmm, yes. You make the best French toast,” she said closing her eyes.
“Let’s not forget I learned from the queen,” he said with a smirk. “Your family still doesn’t believe that a-hole like me can cook for the locals,” Ian said with laughter in his eyes.
“Well you’re just going to have to prove them wrong, won’t you?” she said rolling over to rest her chin on his chest, looking up at him. He inhaled the smell of her hair, banana and coconut. “But promise you’ll feature our favorite entrée, eggs with French toast AND hash browns.”
“I promise. I still don’t get why restaurants don’t have that as an option,” Ian said. “And you”, he said lightly bopping her nose with his finger, “are going to paint and sell your artwork in the local shops,” he said.
“It sounds perfect,” she said and rested her head on his chest.
All went quiet as he was back in his house. Instead of it being 5 a.m. it was only 6 p.m. and the sun was setting out his window. She wasn’t next to him anymore. He felt sadness for a second, but pushed it away and made himself get up and start cooking.
Ian was back at his desk at home. He always worked late and was usually so focused that he stayed up way later than he planned to. Lately, though, he hadn’t been so focused.
“Someone seems distracted,” she said teasingly behind him.
He let out a loud exhale. “Because of you”, he said annoyed, and went back to the excel sheet on his screen.
After a few minutes, he heard her again, but this time her voice sounded sad. “This was your choice, you know.”
“And I made the right choice. How many times do I have to say that?” Ian said so loudly that he alarmed himself. His voice echoed off of the bare walls. He felt that pang again and quickly went back to his numbers.
That night, Ian was so tired that he fell asleep within minutes. He was grateful for dreamless sleep. He woke in the middle of the night and turned over to reach for her, a habit that he still couldn’t shake. She wasn’t there.
The next few weeks were busy and Ian was grateful for the distraction. He felt focused and clear-headed; he felt like himself again. He even decided to go out on a second date with a girl he met out running. They were both training for a marathon. While they were at brunch, she was telling him what she loved about running. He was excited that they had this in common and was listening intently. But then his eye caught the back of a familiar figure from behind with wavy, chestnut brown hair. He inhaled quickly and couldn’t take his eyes off her. She turned to face the waiter and he realized it was a stranger. He exhaled and felt his body relax. Ian distracted himself by studying the menu. “What are you going to get?” he asked.
“Well, I’m not too much of a breakfast person, so I’m probably going to get a salad,” she replied.
Ian nodded and saw French toast on the menu. “Not even French toast?” he said jokingly.
“Way too many carbs and it’s not good for early morning runs,” she replied.
Ian slowly nodded, “That makes sense.”
Ian walked home later that day feeling emptier than he had before.
Later that evening, Ian was finishing a series on Netflix. During the episode, a woman was yelling at the main character, a man. Ian was getting bothered by this woman and she was only on tv. The woman was angry at the man and he didn’t understand why. The man hadn’t done anything wrong; he had been nothing but kind to her. The woman pushed him away as he tried to console her. The man reached out to her again and pulled her in close. She finally put his arms around him and sobbed into his chest. “I’m scared,” she cried out. “Scared of what?” the man asked as he held her. “Scared of getting hurt again,” she whispered. Ian turned off the tv and climbed into bed.
That night, Ian tossed and turned before he finally fell asleep. In his dreams, he was running on the beach. A storm was coming in and he quickened his pace. He noticed a beautiful beach house that had a courtyard in the back facing the ocean. He noticed an event, maybe a wedding, that was going on and guests were milling around. Through the guests, he saw a beautiful woman in a long, white lace dress. Under her veil were chestnut, brown waves. He couldn’t see her face, so he made his way through the sea of guests to try and find her. She kept walking further away from him until he finally caught up to her and grabbed her hand. She turned around and looked up at him with her big, brown eyes that he knew so well. His heart sank. She was no stranger. He felt the feeling of heartache that he had been pushing away. “You’re too late,” she said. Ian woke up in a panic. He was breathing heavily and sweat had soaked his face. He reached over just to see if it was a dream and felt her beside him. He pulled her in close to him so that her back was against his chest. “Did you have a bad dream?” she asked him sleepily. “Yes, you told me it was too late.” He whispered against her neck. She turned around to face him. Their faces were so close that their noses were touching. She kissed him. He missed the way she tasted. “It’s not too late if you’re honest with yourself,” she whispered in his ear. Ian jolted awake and felt out beside him, but no one was there. He rolled on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He felt the sadness and longing come in and quickly tried to push it away, but then remembered what she had said. He felt the pang in his heart and this time he let it come.
~By Lauren Bolos
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