I awake to the early morning rain - red and chilly. In my dream someone was calling me. Someone who had no face. Faceless. Featureless. Yet, I knew she was beautiful. She was calling me. Yes, I heard her. The telephone ringing in the background.

I can hear her breathing through the receiver set of my telephone. Regular. Calm. Deep. Unhurried. Sounds sexy. But I would rather go back to my bed and try to sleep through my headache.

"Are you the girl in my dream?" I ask.

"If only," she says, "I can be someone's dream girl. It is nice to have men thinking of me. Even if they are having sex with another girl. Even if they are masturbating. I don't mind."