Today's Writing Challenge: slip an error into your story, non-fiction or poem. You put it in and we will see if we can find it.
Stephanie woke up, startled to hear a noise in the basement. She got out of bed and put on her robe. The basement was on the ground floor of the building, where the downstairs bedrooms in our apartment unit were located. The walls were fairly soundproof; the building old, solidly built. Most of the time we never heard other tenants in the building as they went into the basement area to go to their storage lockers. We had a door downstairs that led out into the basement area of the building. One of three doors in our unit that opened to the "outside". You could either walk through a hallway in the basement area to a door that opened on one side of the building, or take the elevator up and go out through the lobby.
When Stephanie heard the noise in the middle of the night, sleepy as she was, she remained aware of all the entrances and exits in our unit and in the building. At first she thought perhaps it was part of her dream. Then she heard her name being called, through the wall. She recognized the voice. It was our friend, Dave, whose voice was calling to her. For a moment she wondered why Dave was calling her - he was my friend, mostly, and also a friend to her dad. Then she remembered Dave was supposed to be in the hospital. He had been there for nearly a week now, in a coma - a diabetic coma. She thought about waking me up so I could go see why Dave was calling her, but she knew how little sleep I usually got and didn't want to wake me unless it was an emergency.
She figured since it was Dave's voice, it was Dave, and it wouldn't hurt to go see what he wanted. Opening the door to the basement, she saw Dave standing there. As if he could read her mind, he told her he couldn't come in right now - it was not his time. For that reason he couldn't stay long, but he had a message for her to give to me.
"Tell your mother," he said, "tell her I said 'thank you'. Thank you for helping me out all those years, when I was homeless, and after. I just want you to know how much I've appreciated it, and I will never forget you. I have to go away in a while, but we'll meet again someday." He repeated that he had to leave now, but reminded Stephanie not to forget to give me the message. Stephanie wondered why Dave couldn't just tell me himself, but before she could ask, he was gone.
And then Stephanie woke up, for real this time. The image of Dave, standing in the basement, talking to her - so real - his words - she could hear them, once again. It was morning; I was awake. Stephanie came upstairs and told me about the dream, and what Dave said. As soon as she was finished, my cell phone rang. I answered; it was Dave's nephew, Jonathan. He was calling to tell me that his Uncle Dave passed away about an hour before.
My daughter has often been visited by those who have passed away. She's had visits from my mother - her grandmother - and my dad - her grandfather. She has also been visited from time to time by Ginger, my beloved Ginger cat. From some reading I've done, it appears that the dead don't always show themselves to a certain person who might have been close to them, but instead, to another one close to that person. I think it's their way of saying it's not an illusion or a dream.
I told Dave's sister, Kathy, about Stephanie's dream. It was very reassuring to her, and she believed it happened.
Just like I believe that someday I will, indeed, see Dave again.