I have the same dream all the time.

It starts in a place I don't recognize--I think it's an alleyway in a busy city, but it's nowhere I've been before. It has just rained so the sky is dark and the pavement is wet and there's a faint drip, drip sound from the fire escape. There is a dumpster that reeks so bad one might wonder if it's ever removed, and litter all around it, like this part of the world just doesn't matter.

In the dream the alleyway is endless, or so it seems, and I glide along effortlessly, no real goal in mind. Above me are apartments, and even though the windows are closed I can hear a little of what goes on inside. Televisions, mostly, and a few heated conversations. I find myself holding my breath, almost as if I'm anticipating something big, but I glide on.

I reach out and run my hand along one of the buildings, an aging brick, and feel its coolness against my warm palms. I have always had warm palms. I'm moving further and although there are still buildings to my left and right, the sounds from before are more and more muted, until the silence is near-deafening. A jolt of thunder startles me.

"Looks like rain," a voice says from above.

A woman.

I have seen her in my dream so many times now that I have committed her features to memory. Strawberry blonde hair. Pale eyes. Freckles. She is sitting on the fire escape, her legs dangling down to me, smoking a cigarette. There is a pecuilar nature about her, but what it is, I can't say.

"Who are you?" I ask. It is a dream, after all, and I think I have a right to know.

She ignores my question. "I'd get inside if I were you."

Sure enough, a moment later the rain begins to pour. I am soaked through to my skin immediately. I never notice until that moment, but she is wearing a rain slicker and as soon as it begins to fall she pulls the hood over her hair and continues to sit, smoking and staring at me.

The rain is loud, louder than normal rain, so I raise my voice to ask, "Who are you? Where am I?" I feel panic in my dream state. There is no reason to, but something feels off and I know she knows.

She shakes her head with a smile. "Go home, love. Go home."

That's when I wake up.