We walked through half-contructed buildings on a sandy boardwalk. I followed my companion into a glass-smooth ocean crowded with boats, houses, swimmers, debris, shoulder to shoulder across the horizon. Swimming was effortless, and it was utterly quiet.

I left the water to walk along a dappled path. He followed me to a red brick hall, where a gardener wished us well. We rested in the shade of the hedges.

He kissed me like he never did in waking life - calmly, slowly, utterly content.

I woke soon after, wistful and empty, to the grey light of morning. How can the death of a moment that left no ghost come back to haunt me?