I glanced down the hallway to check if anybody was around. They shouldn’t have been – I got up three hours earlier than usual and it was the weekend. The soft sounds of three people snoring wasn’t quite enough to settle my anxious heart rate though.
But I had to know.
I crawled down the hallway, towards our staircase. Until yesterday it had been boring, with steps of faded carpet and a wooden bannister that you couldn’t touch on your way up or down unless you desperately wanted a splinter.
But yesterday… yesterday the glazier servicing the Melbourne area had arrived.
And he’d done something magical.
It glinted at me in the light of the still-rising morning sun, softly letting me know it was still there, that it hadn’t just been a dream. I felt my jaw go slack with awe as I turned the corner and–
Our staircase was made of glass!
Still pristine, without any smudges or dirt on it, just a gently-curving series of steps reaching from the scratched floorboards of the ground floor to the fraying carpet of the top floor.
No, it was this middle space, this transitory limbo, where Heaven lay.
I sidled forward to this, my new idol, until I could just stretch out my hand and lightly touch the glass balustrade.
It was cold, but… warming. Warming to me, the heat of my body. Like it was… welcoming me? Embracing me? Telling me that it was okay, bringing me in close and letting me know that just because we were different didn’t mean we couldn’t meet somewhere familiar, somewhere comfortable – somewhere warm.
A tear fell from my eye, dripping poignantly onto the glass below, where my knee rested. In that instant, I could not think of a better gift to share with this crystalline giant.
‘What the hell are you doing?’
I spun around with a yell of shock, my sister standing behind me. She was wearing her pyjamas and a truly confused expression.
‘Nothing!’ I yelled, too loudly. ‘Sleepwalking! Who are you? How did you get in my dream?!’
‘You’re so weird,’ she sighed, walking away.