For the next while, Todd sat in meditational silence, not just digesting the paper he had just swallowed, but also the words it contained. He ran through the text over and over again in his mind’s eye, looking for meaning. One phrase that stood out in particular to him was “flash of hope.” Todd assumed he must have meant flashlight, but why use the word hope?
Todd could tell he was becoming a sort of pawn in a larger plan, which was still in the process of unfolding before him. There had to be a reason he would go through such effort to deliver this awkward message, but he just couldn’t grasp it.
With a burning sensation spread full across every part of his epidermis, Todd woke up in the middle of the following morning in a full on sweat. The pillow beneath his head was soaked with perspiration. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen to Todd. Even before becoming incarcerated, he had often had mini panic attacks during a solid sleep. He easily convinced himself that his dream was no more than his subconscious mind piecing together loose fragments of his existence and trying to make sense of them. Prescient as it may have been, it wasn’t until he later flashed back to this particular dream that he realized how much trouble he had gotten himself into. For the remainder of the early morning, Todd sat nearly motionless in the center of his cell.
To be continued…