Since childhood, Angela had dreamed of this particular house, the flagstone walkway, and the wrap-around porch with its swing near the front door. It was only a dream as she entered and wandered about the busy home, children like herself racing from room to room.
As she grew older, so did this continuous dream. She saw the children grow up and move out, their parent’s age, the home grow quiet, and the upkeep slowly subside.
Now married and with children of her own, Angela had the dream, less and less. It had never occurred to her that such a house existed outside her sleeping thoughts.
One day, as she and her family were driving through a neighboring town, she saw her dream house in real life. A for sale sign stood in the front yard, and she beckoned her husband to stop the car so she could take a look at the place.
Knowing her dream, he obliged. She got out and quickly walked up the flagstone walkway to the front door.
She knocked, and an older woman answered. Taken aback, Angela knew the lady was the one from her dreams.
“Hi,” Angela said, “This is going to sound strange, but I have dreamed about your home for years, ever since I was a little girl.”
“Nothing strange about it, dear,” the woman answered. “You’ve visited us so often in the past that we were beginning to wonder if you would ever come by in person or simply remain a ghost haunting our house.”