The ring pierced the veil of dreams.

Devan emerged as if out of water in a panic, scrambling to find the abrasive nighttime intruder. When he finally found his cellphone, face-down on his bedside table, he took a few moments to adjust to the light. His initial reaction was that it was one of the 8 alarms he set for himself each night. This one, he imagined, had gone rogue, an unfortunate brush of the thumb on his cracked screen.

This wasn’t an alarm though, and if he hadn’t been yanked from a deep sleep, he probably would’ve recognized the difference in the noise.

This was a call.

Vivian Alston.

The name of his ex-girlfriend, the one he hadn’t spoken to in nearly a decade was strange. The timing only amplified it; 3:07 floated just below her name.

What on earth could she possibly want? It didn’t make sense.

The possibility of her being in trouble crossed his mind, and he slid his finger along the screen, answering the call.

“Hello?”

There was silence on the other end. Had she perhaps butt-dialed him?

“Viv?” he said, this time with a bit more force.

“I couldn’t sleep”

It was a whisper, like a child settling down for a nap.

“Are you okay?” replied Devan, “Are you drunk?”

“I’m okay,” said Vivian, half-yawning, “and I’m sober.”

“Why’d you call?” said Devan.

“I told you,” she said, “I can’t sleep.”

“Viv, it’s 3 in the morning and we haven’t spoken in years. I’m not sure what—”

“Just tell me a story, one story, and I’ll hang up.”

With this one sentence, Devan felt himself a child again, Vivian and him laying under a cherry blossom tree, lost in hushed conversation as the flowers spiraled around them like dancers. They would dream all the time back then; living, waking dreams. They had shared a collective web of fantasies then; Devan the weaver and Vivian the muse.

“I stopped telling stories,” said Devan, joining her in a whisper.

There was a pause.

“And I stopped calling” said Vivian.

Devan sighed, rolling over and putting the phone on speaker.

“What story would you like to hear?” he said with a yawn.

“Any will do.”