The words to her new book blurred a little, and her eyes did not adjust back. Noelle Lange’s head dipped slowly out of the palm of her hand propping herself up, before she jerked quietly back upright. Blinking hard, she forced her dark eyes back to her new read she was consciously hiding the title of incase a member from church walked through the door.

“Interpreting Dreams and You”

Over the past week Noelle had slept maybe three hours a night. Her brain was too tired now to keep track. Dark half-circles had formed beneath her eyes like pale bruises. Hair was piled atop her head in a very un-Noelle fashion. Stray light brown hair was sticking in every which direction the sloppy elastic allowed it to rebel. It looked like a wash or two wouldn’t hurt. Her head slipped to the side a bit, and her eyes stayed closed for a moment longer this time before fluttering back open. She did not want to see those things again, those strangers she didn’t even know.
From her table she’d selectively chosen away from walk through traffic, she saw a rushed man nearly floor a woman as he was leaving. That had played across her eye lids the night before, only the man had no coffee in what she’d seen. Massaging her sore eyes, her heavy lids blinked back to the book.

She hadn’t been to church since these dreams started, and this was stressing her the most. What could they be saying?
Not even the coffee could keep her awake anymore.

She scanned the page of this forbidden book, re-reading the same sentence ten times over. This disorder was starting to ruin her carefully structured life.