— Are we dreaming? — She asked.
— I don't know, my dear. I really don’t know. — He answered.
— It feels real.
— Yeah, it does.
— Look how old we are! Isn't that crazy?
— Not really. — He says while putting his arm on her shoulder. She calms down for a moment.
— Yeah, but I thought... Well, I thought something, but everyone probably thinks the same. It’s silly.
— What did you think?
— I thought we’d be different. Old, sure, but perky, wise, matured from adventure. Something noble like that. But no. We’re the same, but older. — She shakes her flaccid arms and looks both marveled and terrified by the loose skin wiggling back and forth.
He adjusts his glasses.
— Sometimes, when I remain silent to appear profound, I’m surprised by the indigence of my thoughts. I may look like Aristotle himself while I try to remember what I ate for lunch. It’s hard to make inwards the theater we make for others.
— But, after all, when have you become so old?
— To tell you the truth, I don’t even know how we got here.
— It’s weird: despite the complete darkness, we can see everything clearly. And there’s no place to rest my legs.
— Sit here on the ground. Beside me. Put your head on my lap. — He gently caresses her head, trying to ignore his surprise with her white hairs.
— I’d be nothing without you. But I’m ashamed to say that I don’t remember your name.
— I might be offended, but I don’t remember yours either. — He smiles.
— Are we close to wake up? This old body is getting on my nerves.
— Of course, my love. This is a dream, but no more than everything else. Time is a nightmare from which we never wake up, and old age is punishment for those that refuse to die.
— Don’t talk nonsense. This will go away in a minute. We’ll wake up young and beautiful, as always. As I remember you, and as you remember me. Everything will be fine. — She says that with forced certainty as if trying to convince herself.
— You’re right. The nightmare will end soon, and we’ll be back to our bodies.
— ... This conversation tired me. Good night, my love. — She pushes her head against his thigh.
— Good night, my angel.
And they wished to never wake up.