Last night, I had a brief encounter with the man I have recently fallen out of love with.
We walked straight towards each other in a small alley in the old town, not far from where I live. He marched at a quick pace and, without stopping, went past me almost without a glance. By the nature of dreams, I knew it was him, even though his appearance had change drastically. Instead of his usual blonde, his hair was now quite short and of a natural red. Moreover, he was at least ten years younger than the “old” incarnation that I knew. The dream-emphasis with this was not on him appearing more youthful, but rather more adolescent. Matching with that, a complacent smile played around his lips.
The whole encounter and his disguise of change took me so much aback that I could not even succeed to some kind of greeting, let alone stop to talk. Like that, we just zipped past each other in a short moment which my dream played back in slow-motion.