ONE

                                    

                                              
• ＯＮＥ •
                          
AN EXCERPT FROM "DREAMLAND" BY SONIA JAYME, ACT I SCENE 1
                          
❝ LOCKE: I can't believe it's over. She's over.
LILY: (shakes head) She isn't. She's just moved on. ❞

                          
✾ ✾ ✾
                          
THE IDEA COMES on Sunday. Sonia is on her way to Leo's apartment, having decided to walk there instead of taking the subway like she usually does. The weather just called for it, heavy clouds and dripping trees. Usually, such conditions would be off-putting, but Sonia would rather be soaked wet in rain than her own sweat. Another thing that should be off-putting to Sonia is that she has no sense of direction whatsoever, so what could take her half an hour might actually take her two. She predicts she might just give up and hail a cab. End up paying double what she could've if she'd just taken the subway. This doesn't stop her. She hops into another puddle and zips up her jacket.
                          
Turning into a street she's certain she hasn't seen before, she forges on. Her sneakers slap against the sodden pavement, the white canvas turning into a soppy light grey. This is a part of New York City that she doesn't even know existed, where instead of high-rise buildings and trendy boutiques and restaurants, the street is lined with gardens and stone houses, glistening in the drizzle. It's quaint, to say the least. Sonia wishes she could live here. (Leo would also really like it here. That dork is all for the aesthetics — this place sure does have a lot of that to go around.)
                          
Sonia stops short having walked a few blocks now in a direction that is most likely opposite from the right one. As if this little corner of New York couldn't get any more bizarre, what stands in front of her is the cherry on top. 
                          
The foggy air disperses a spectrum of lights, ranging from red to violet from behind a bamboo fence. The lights shine through the gaps in the fence, perched on which is a sign that reads "Little Millie's Dreamland" in a squiggly font. Sonia is drawn to the spectacle, and if the hair at the back of her neck wasn't rising because of the cold, it sure is now. The entire thing has an eerie feel to it, something that attracts Sonia but also makes her want to run away.
                          
She looks around before stepping any closer. Beside Little Millie's Dreamland is a house, bricks painted white, the paint peeling, covered in overgrowth. Its windows are completely dark, unlike the lights coming from behind the bamboo fence. No one seems to be in the house, which tugs at Sonia, because Little Millie's Dreamland is in pristine condition from what she can see. Sonia wants to see more, the attraction now overtaking the urge to run away. There's a hole in the fence just high enough for her to hook her foot through and climb up.
                          
So she does.
                          
"Whoa," Sonia breathes once she's got her footing and her eyes are peering just above the fence.
                          
The first thing she thinks is this must be illegal. The second is Little Millie must have a lot of time on her hands because her Dreamland is, put simply, enrapturing. What Sonia sees is what she imagines would happen if Wonderland and Oz had a baby together, orphaned it, and sent it off to be raised in New York. Little Millie's Dreamland covers at least a hundred square feet, freshly mowed grass, bright green and dewey. The lights, Sonia discovers, emanate from little installments that resemble all kinds of creatures. A green caterpillar here, a red ladybug there. A huge fucking butterfly with rainbow wings right at the center. Sonia is dizzy from just taking it in for all but five seconds.