“Where do we go when we sleep?”
They knew. Somehow they knew.
Her eyes flicked imperceptibly to her husband, seeking the tells she had been taught to look out for. A twitch of the head. A stiffening of his posture. He showed nothing, humming as her washed up.
She smiled at her son. “What do you mean sweetheart?”
“When we close our eyes. Where do we go?”
Not where do you go when I sleep.
They didn’t know.
She slowed her heartbeat through her breathing whilst showing no signs of doing so.
“We go into our imaginations. It’s beautiful there.”
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