Conversations: “Shakespearean Texts” from Lost and Found


Alone in my hotel room, I’m reminded of another of Shakespeare’s sonnets.  I know she’s not a fan, but the verse is too fitting, describes my feelings tonight perfectly.  I decide to pick up my phone and email her the last two lines before my shower.

“All days are nights to see till I see thee / And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.”

After I take a shower, I check my messages before going to bed.  There is a text from her, and I’m immediately surprised and amused at her Shakespearean response.

“Is it thy will thy image should keep open / My heavy eyelids to the weary night? / Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken / While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?”  

“So I’m keeping you awake at night?” I respond quickly, crawling into the plush bed, throwing off all the pillows but two.

“Maybe,” she answers.

“Since when do you quote the Bard?”

“Since Google found a good comeback. ;)”

“You always were resourceful.”

“Hey, Shakespeare, shouldn’t you be sleeping, dreaming of me?”

“I was just about to go do that.  I had some things to take care of.”

“Like what?  It’s pretty late…”

“Well, I had to do things that simply involve me imagining you… and then I took a shower.”

“You had to tell me that…”

“You had to ask?”  She doesn’t respond.  “Well, what do you do when I keep you awake at night?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“In fact, I would.  Have you been to sleep tonight?”

“Nope.  Can’t sleep.”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Right now, I’m wondering why you don’t have curtains… the moon is really bright tonight… it’s shining directly into your room.”

“You’re in my bed?”

“I am.”

“And what are you wearing?”

“Such a guy response… I thought you already took care of that. :p”

“I’m just trying to give you something to do, alone, in the middle of the night, without me.  Is that so wrong?”

“Well, maybe I already took care of that, too…”

“Emily Hennigan!”


“Next time, you’d better call me.”

“In your dreams… speaking of which…”

“I miss you, Emi.  I can’t wait to see you in person.”

“I miss you, too… but with this rock-hard pillow, it’s almost like you’re here.”

“Rock-hard, huh?”

“Shut it, Nate.  Next time I’m bringing my own pillow.”

“Bring over anything you’d like.  I just want you to be there when I get home.”

“I may not be here, but I’ll come soon enough.”

“I’m sure you will.  ;)”

“From poetry to porn.  My, how this conversation has regressed.  Go to bed, you dirty, dirty man.”

“With dreams of my sweet Miranda…”  When she doesn’t text back, I add clarification“Shakespeare?”

“I know, but which one was she?”

“From the Tempest.  She was the one whose beauty and virtue eclipsed all others.”

“Hell, I think you’re already dreaming!”  

I laugh quietly to myself.  “Like ya, Emi.”

“Sweet dreams, Nate.”

I set the phone on the night stand and roll on my side, pulling the soft pillow into my body, anxious for those dreams to come.

Lost and Found: Kindle / iBooks / Nook

©2011 Lori L. Otto

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