ACT 1 Her Dream Was Always the Same, When It
ACT 1 Her dream was always the same, when it came. It was a typically gorgeous summer day in the park, except everything was far from typical. Above her eleven crows flew in slow motion, the beating of their wings sounding loud in her ears, their shrill cawing sending shivers down her spine. Around her the breeze moved through the trees before dipping down to stir up little whirling dervishes of dust. In the distance a woman’s familiar voice cried out. “Olivia…” She froze, recognizing her mother’s haunting tones. It was not disapproving, or angry, but as she remembered hearing it as a young child being called in for supper. Beckoning her. She spun quickly, hoping to catch a glimpse of her one last time, only to find nothing but row upon row of chairs, all festively decorated. That’s right, she remembered now, it was Rick and Mindy’s wedding day. Her hands moved over the red silk of her dress, smoothing the material over her curves. She needed to warn somebody about something, but she couldn’t quite remember what. Her heart raced, thudding against her ribs like a wild bird trapped in a cage, desperate to escape. Somewhere the pop-pop-pop of gunfire sounded and a baby cried. She turned again, fear gripping her. She knew that baby’s cry anywhere. “Emma?” She couldn’t move. She was stuck as if drowning neck deep in quicksand, sinking deeper every second. Suddenly Edmund Winslow stood before her, a huge grin plastered across his face as he offered her a drink from a bottle of Johnny Walker.
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