[ WP ] You possess the ability of persistent lucid dreaming . Accompanied by a strange man/woman , together you build a world you revisit every night . One day you see them at a coffee shop . You immediately recognize each other .

In here we spoke by mountains. We sang by forests, argued by cities. We made cities and villages, mountains and volcanoes, streams and lakes and oceans. We raised hurricanes and tsunamis; with the flick of a wrist a volcano would ignite into life, lava spewing into the air, the fallout would be enough to destroy entire continents, at our whim. 
 
 I had named her Lucy - which was a joke. At the back of my sleeping mind I was always aware of her, of what she was building, what she was destroying. I would build an ocean and she would destroy a nation. We were Gods, both merciful and benevolent. I was always of her because, of course, she was a part of me, a secondary consciousness that existed in the dream where there no rules. It amused me to argue with myself, like that age-old war between the right and left brain. I would raise a mountain, and she'd stomp her feet and destroy it. I would suggest a river and she would embellish it with a lake, a cosy village; perhaps she would follow the river up and up to the snow capped mountain peak, past chalets, wooden huts and through dense pine forests to the spring where the river formed and there she might seal it with a boulder, never to flow again, or to bless it stardust she would rip from the sky, or entrench the source pool in a spinney, watched over by dryads who played with naiads born when she pointed her finger, made a wish. 
 
 When all was calm, and we were tired, as the greedy dawn approached, we would relax, she and I, and in the vast distance, over unimaginable horizons, trees and forests would bloom into life. 
 
 * 
 
 I would wake with a smile that would last the day. And I would do my best to not simply fall into sleep, to become a zombie. I had been lucid dreaming for years - but only recently reached the level of control I now had - and I knew the pitfalls and dangers of lucid-dreaming, sleeping too much, or wishing to sleep simply to return to the dream, being prime among them. So I would never go to bed too early, and when I would I would lie awake smiling too excited to return to my world and to Lucy, to whatever fantastic monuments we would build that night, until I slipped away and deeper and deeper. I would n't realise I had gone to sleep until I saw the white light, and I followed it and I would burst into my world and immediately take flight. Lucy might not be here by the time I arrived, she might already be waiting. It depended, I assumed, on how deep into REM I was. Only during REM sleep would she appear, when I was in the deepest and my waking life had surrendered sovereignty to dream. Then she would come. And there she was. 
 
 * 
 
 By day I worked an average job for an average pay in an average city. I went to pubs with friends on the evening, lunch with colleagues by day. I took the train home after work everyday. It was late when I left work. The boss had been pressuring me, and I'd had to stay over a touch just to make sure I was finished, or else suffer his wrath for handing in work late. I sped to the station to try and catch the train I always caught but, as I navigated the busy streets, and negotiated the angry passer-by's I thwacked into, I saw the train pull away with jerky ease and I cursed. There was nothing for it, I would have to wait. I cursed at my watch, noting that the next one would n't be for another forty minutes. I looked around looking for some way to bide my time until my eyes fell on the station platform. Shit coffee, miserable company, but it was a seat, and it was warm. 
 
 As I expected the girl serving the coffee was miserable and, as I expected, it looked like mud. But I had n't expected anything different. I turned to find a seat and I took a step into the small shop looking round the tables. The train had just left so fortunately the place was mostly empty, which suited me quite perfectly. It was quiet, almost calm. 
 
 And that was when I saw her. Lucy. 
 
 Staring back at me, wide-eyed and frightful. I froze, gripping my coffee so hard it nearly spilled over the top. It was definitely Lucy. She looked the same, she wore the same expressions, ones that I had seen so many times. A face I had seen portray anger and hate and contrition and love and passion and glee. 
 
 I walked towards her, but I did n't realise I was doing it till I was opposite her. 
 
 `` Lucy?'' I hissed, choking on the words. 
 
 She laughed. And the idea of her as an extension of myself banished: in my world - *our* world - we never spoke. But here she was, laughing. Making noise. 
 
 `` Is that what you called me?'' 
 
 I stared at her incredulous, far too deep into shock to do talk or question. Just stare numbly. 
 
 `` I realised a long time ago what was going on. It's nice to finally see you,'' she smiled and her white teeth appeared, her round cheeks rose and her eyes shone forest-green. `` I've thought about you, about coming to see you. Please,'' she gestured to the seat beneath me. `` We have lots to talk about.'' 
 
 ***** 
 
 Hey guys, thanks for reading! I really enjoyed this prompt, there was so much I could have done with it! If you liked this and want to read more hop over to r/JakeWrites for lots of other stories. I'm always open to comments, and feedback and criticisms.
