She used to dream of his smile, that small twist of his lips that somehow spoke of warmth and sincerity. She used to dream of his eyes, eyes that spoke volumes in their expressiveness, eyes that seemed to see everything and exuded a sense of openness, of innocence.
She still dreams of his smile, but now that smile is more of an unnatural warping of his lips that speaks of cruelty. She dreams of his eyes, eyes shuttered to the world around, shuttered to keep others out and to keep himself in. Now her dreams are nightmares.
He is nebulous, and like a haunting dream, he hovers around the edges of her consciousness, a shadow of the man he once was.