Leke opened his eyes and closed them again. He did this repeatedly until he struggled to discern on which side was the dream and which side reality. Everything was white as though the atmosphere had transformed to moistened particles of chalk dust. He looked around, noting that he was in his studio but couldn't remember how he'd got back there. A soft rapping got him to his feet.
Initially, when he opened the garage door, he could not see anything but the fluffy fog-filled day.
‘Who's there?’ he called out and she emerged from the softness.
‘I woke you up,’ she sounded disappointed.
Leke tried to hide his happiness to see her.
‘I better go, it was a bad idea anyway.’
‘No no, come in,’ he stepped aside to let her pass, bending to close the door. When he turned around she was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking around.
‘This is different, bunking down with a car for a roommate,’ she said and Leke smiled relieved by her honesty.
‘I wasn't expecting visitors.’
She shrugged.
‘How are you? How's your grandmother?’ he was sorry he'd asked, he sat down waiting for her to lift her head from her hands and her shoulders to stop shaking.
‘I've had to use the permanent Frail Care. I can't take care of her anymore. They’re good people but they don't understand her like I do, they don't know all the little things. They rang in the middle of the night because she was upset and demanding to speak to me – disrupting the whole place. She knew who I was, Leke. For one minute she remembered my name.’
Later they went for a walk outside in the fog and held hands. Leke felt in a dream, he knew with a forceful certainty that with his next step he would turn to wind and fly.