I exited the bedroom, taking one last look at my body, it gave me the creeps to see myself unmoving and corpse-like. I found myself wondering if this was what death was, just a never ending dream.

My apartment was still dark, so I willed the lights to come on, but the couch was bare. The pillow Daniel had brought laid on the couch, but he was nowhere to be found. As I approached where he should be, the air began to vibrate, gently at first, then more intensely as I leaned over where he should be. I began to wonder if I could “feel” people who were awake in the real world, it would certainly have explained the strange feeling in the coffee shop that should have been bustling with people. There was something innately creepy about being able to feel some tangible part of the real world, it was very unsettling. I didn’t really want to yet think about that I was not be the only person who could do this and what that meant for people unaware, yet potentially effected in some way. It was becoming very clear how Alan seemed to know way too much about me at the very start.

I settled in to the chair across from the couch to wait out my theory. I willed a nearby lamp to become an ice cold beer and relaxed, contemplating what exactly I would end up doing for my picture this time. My last flash of genius had just been an offhand thought that I assumed no one else would be able to see. I wanted to make this one count. After several minutes, snoring slowly began to fill the air around me and Daniel faded in, fast asleep on the couch. I finished my beer and cracked my knuckles. I willed his clothing to match my strongest memory of his mother, they transformed into a bright pink tank top with “Trophy Wife” written across the front in rhinestones, a very short leather miniskirt, and bright pink, glittery heels. I laid piece of paper on his face and another on his head and willed the first to be a convincing makeup transformation of his mother and the paper on his head because a long, blonde wig. All that was left was the camera. The coffee table morphed into a professional tripod with attached ring light and the chair I had been sitting in became a high-end camera worthy of any professional photo studio. In a stroke of artistic genius, I tried my luck willing sections of the paint on my walls to become inset lighting to create the perfect wash of light. I lined up the best angle, chuckled to myself at how well the makeup worked, and snapped a model’s portfolio-worthy picture. I gently placed the picture on Daniel’s chest and admired my work, now to hope that it actually worked.

The problem was with the waiting. While I did want to eventually see just how far out I could explore, the idea of seeing if it had worked again was just too tempting. The only way I could think to get out of the dream was to hold my breath until I woke up. After about thirty seconds, the dream world swirled away and it felt like the floor had been ripped out beneath me, I woke up gasping and coughing.

After recovering, I hurried out to the living room and flipped on the lights. Daniel let out a loud groan and flipped me off, but I didn’t care, the picture was on his chest.

“I did it.” I said and pointed to his chest.

“What?” He blinked his eyes open painfully against the light and picked up the photo on his chest. “How in the hell did you get a picture of my mom sleeping? Dude, that’s creepy, even for you.”

“Look closer.”

He sat up with a huff, rubbed his eyes, and squinted them at the picture. “Okay, I’m checking the camera.” He pulled out his phone and opened his security camera app. After a few moments of scrolling through footage, he set the phone down again and silently stared at me.

“Do you believe me now?” I asked.

“I’m trying to figure out how you drugged me and then tampered with my camera.”

I rolled my eyes and took his phone from him. I played the footage for myself and was delighted to see that it captured the picture seeming to spontaneously appear on his chest. Nothing else seemed out of place or some sort of logical explanation. It was certainly solid proof that something magical was happening.

“Well I’ve had enough creepy for one night. Not sleeping anymore out of fear you’ll take advantage of me.”

“So you agree that this is it, this is proof?” I excitedly asked.

“I’m not saying anything,” he grumbled, “other than somehow you’ve managed to ruin a perfectly good night of sleep. Not like I needed it after partying all last night or something. Do you have any beer?”

“Of course not, I can barely afford to feed myself half the time.”

“Figures, come on, I’ll buy you one.”

We shuffled out in our pajamas and down the street to a little dive bar. We typically avoided it because it never seemed very lively or interesting, but a dark, boring, hole-in-the-wall seemed perfect in the moment. Daniel got us two bottles of the cheapest brew they had and we set up at the far end of the bar. We drank in silence, watching late night poker on the greasy screen above the bar.

“Do magic in front of me, not while I’m asleep and maybe I’ll believe you,” he suddenly said, not taking his eyes from the screen, “but you have to understand that I can’t really believe anything until then. Magic isn’t real, just like your werewolf.

“It’ll take a while. It’s not supposed to be easy at all.” He shrugged and motioned to the bartender for another beer. “But I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

A couple brews later, we walked back to my apartment. It was the deepest part of the night and the air had a very faint nip to it, but it was certainly apparent that summer was rolling in fast.

“No offense man, but I’m going to go home. I kind of don’t feel great about sleeping where you can easily fuck with me. I know you won’t do anything too bad, but still, it’s a matter of principle.”

“Yeah, I get it. I won’t ever do anything serious though.” I promised. He clapped me on the shoulder and started walking to his truck. “What about your pillow?”

“Keep it for the night and think of me, I know how you miss me. It’s a pity that I’ll never feel the same about you.”

Back in my apartment, I picked up the photo once more, still amazed that it worked. I knew magic had to be real and if I could achieve lucid dreaming, then I could achieve other spells. I didn’t know why it came so easily while lighting the candle seemed to do absolutely nothing, but it felt tangibly close.

I spent the next several nights exploring my neighborhood’s dream scape and found that a disturbing number of people fail to lock their doors at night. It started as kind of a joke to try every door, but once I knew I could get in, the temptation was too great to stay out. I would never use the knowledge to wake up and steal from them or something terrible like that, but I found it incredibly fascinating to get a complete, unrestricted look at how other people lived. I also tried exploring if there were any boundaries to how far or where I could travel, but from what I could tell, I could keep walking until I woke up or got bored. If there were distance boundaries, they were quite large.

During the day, I spent a good chunk of my day trying to unravel how to light the candle and failing at it. I was meticulously recording my attempts and reviewing what I had written thus far daily, but I felt no closer to success than I had been at the start. Something felt different about the act, lucid dreaming had happened so naturally, it felt like something that I should have always known how to do, while this kind of magic felt foreign. I began to wonder if I would even be capable of it. Maybe I was a one trick magician and that’s just where it would end, granted it was a pretty cool trick.

Following the fifth failed session, I was ready to give up. I had settled into a method of trying to will my fingertips to warm slowly and light the wick, but their temperature wouldn’t budge. I felt like I was doing everything he said to do and sticking with the process that felt the most right, but it was hard to keep the faith in something that had zero results. I decided that I had to try to contact Alan and get some advice before I gave up on the whole thing.

I sent him a text asking to meet him as soon as he had time because I had questions about starting magic. He replied that I should go take a nap and wait outside my building and that we would meet there. The idea of meeting another magician for a serious discussion in the dream plane made me feel pretty badass.

I was finding it easier and easier to fall asleep when I felt like it and slip into lucid dreaming. I effortlessly slipped into the dream plane and waited for him outside of my building. A few moments later, a nearby car morphed into a elevator with a sign on it. The sign read, “Enter and press the appropriate button.” I did as it asked and was greeted by upbeat elevator music and an entire wall panel of buttons that were labeled everything from “Great Wall of China” to “DO NOT PUSH AGAIN.” I found one that read “Alan and Bubbles” and pressed it. My stomach flipped over as I felt the world contract around me. While it appeared that nothing had changed in my surroundings, I was fairly certain I was now intimately familiar with how it would feel to be sucked through a straw. The elevator dinged cheerfully and the doors opened into Alan’s living room.

“What do you think of it?” Alan asked with a big grin.

I wobbled as I stepped out, needing to hold onto the side of the elevator to keep from falling over. “How does this thing work? I feel somewhere between sick and disoriented.”

“That will take way too long to explain right now, let’s leave it at: the more practice you have with magic in the dream plane, the more elaborate your spells can become. That is pretty much my magnum opus and is amazingly useful, only downside is that I have to be very familiar with an area to establish a button for it.”

“Do I want to know what the button labelled not to push again goes to?”

“My ex-girlfriend’s apartment, also an extremely long story, but trust me, if you ever borrow this from me, don’t go there.” He shuddered and motioned for me to sit on his couch next to Bubbles. “Sit, it makes you feel better faster. I haven’t figured out why it makes everyone feel sick at first, but it seems to fade as you use it, I hardly feel anything anymore. Bubbles still vomits horribly every time.” In response to hearing his name, Bubbles burped loudly and rolled over to beg for belly rubs. “Anyway, what did you need?”

“I don’t seem to be getting anywhere with magic. I have been trying and trying to light a stupid candle and nothing seems to even work a little. I feel like nothing is happening and nothing ever will,” I explained while scratching Bubbles pudgy belly.

“How long have you been trying? Have you felt any tingling, warmth, vibrations or heard any strange noises?” he asked.

“I guess it’s been almost a week now since I started seriously and I haven’t felt anything, nothing at all and I definitely didn’t hear anything. I’ve been practicing in silence to check for anything like that. It’s like it’s beyond me.”

Alan furrowed his brow in thought and stroked his growing wizard beard, it seemed to be coming in quickly, almost too quickly. “A week is definitely not enough time to see much, if any progress. Honestly, it took several weeks for me to finally get a real spark or flame of any kind. The first act of magic in the real world seems to be extremely difficult and it slowly gets better from there.” He stood up and went into his kitchen, returning with two cups of very fancy looking coffee. I wondered why he bothered when he could have willed them into existence without getting up. “Although, I did expect you to be a slightly quicker study since you figured out lucid dreaming so easily.”

I took a sip of the steaming coffee and marveled at its creamy, rich texture. Though not sweetened, the beans themselves were of high enough quality and roasted perfectly to bring out the inherent sweetness. While I had never really been a coffee person, I could see myself drinking several cups of the ethereal version a day.

“Is lucid dreaming magic?” I asked, “It kind of seems like it since I feel so… me right now, but I’m really back at home in bed, not breathing.”

“Not quite,” he paused to take a long drink of his coffee and gave a satisfied sigh, “pretty much anyone can accomplish lucid dreaming, that’s why it’s information that you can freely find. However, people who are more receptive and open to magic seem to be able to have more control and freedom. For instance, while you are completely cognoscente and in control of everything around and happening to you right now, someone not receptive to magic in the same dream plane will feel like things are happening to them, not that they’re a great influence. I guess it’s a difference between knowing you are aware and knowing you have control.”

I nodded, though I still wasn’t sure I understood completely. “So being able to do this just means that I should have the ability to do magic?”

“Effectively, yes. You have control in this realm mostly because the rules, physics if you will, of this plane have it written as a fact of this plane. Magic sensitive beings are ‘allowed’ control over matter and to an extent, time. For instance, we’ve been together here for only a short time, maybe a few minutes, but likely a few hours have passed in the real world; we could contract or dilate that time if we wanted to.”

“Whoa, wait, so this is like a real place with different physics?”

“Awesome isn’t it?” He grinned and downed the rest of his drink. “Yes, this is a real place, this place exists along-side of our normal plane of existence. When we wake up and are no longer sitting here, this place still exists. Everyone travels here during rest, whether that’s to dreamlessly sleep or end up transported to some other part of this realm in a dream. Every dream you’ve ever had was located somewhere here, along with the echoes of the world we know. This plane is effectively infinite, which sounds really amazing until you realize that’s pretty much true of our real plane too. Universes and how they work is weird to think about.”

I shook my head in disbelief, it seemed that there was too much information to take in at once. “If this is an echo of the real world, then how come we can influence it from here?”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “You were able to make a real plane change?”

I briefly explained to him my experience with taking pictures and how I was able to make them appear in the real world. As I explained, his face became amazed, then exasperated.

“Why do you continue to let Daniel in on any of this? I pride myself on being a decent judge of character and I don’t think he’s ever going to be a positive force for you in your magical journey. He’s going to keep holding you back and possibly do worse even if he does end up buying into it.”

“He’s all I’ve had sometimes. He never gave up on me even when I wanted to give up on myself. It’s not all bad all the time and most of the time he means well, even if he layers it in with lots of teasing and snark. That’s kind of just how he is.” As I explained, it occurred to me that it sounds kind of like I was in a bad relationship and trying to justify staying.

“Just be careful about it, the last thing magic needs is a true idiot getting mixed up in it,” he said with a shake of his head. “Regardless, that’s interesting that you were able to cause something to cross realms so early on, that took me a little while to figure out. Usually it requires a great desire for that object to have permanence, then another great desire for the object to realm travel.”

“I did really, really want someone to be able to see what I had done the first time and the second, I really wanted to prove magic was real.”

He seemed to ponder my theory for a moment before shrugging. “Sure, that could be it. I still think it may also mean that you are hypersensitive to magic as well, though that does bring us back to your first issue.”

“If I’m so sensitive to it, why is nothing working?”

“If I had to guess, you’ve haven’t actually found the right method. Try mixing it up, even if a method seems silly, you never know.”

“How do you know all of this? Is your grandfather’s book really that complete?”

He let out a loud laugh. “Oh no, my grandfather was really a small fish in the magic pond. I was able to easily surpass his abilities.” He leaned forward in his chair and spoke quieter. “This is not what you want to hear, but when you’re ready, you’ll find out how I know what I do. Some is pleasant, some is not, the underbelly of magic where the answers to its questions live will devour those whom are not ready. Did I tell you how my grandfather died?” I shook my head, I was afraid of the answer. “The official documents in the real plane say that he was a victim of a house robbery gone wrong, but I read the autopsy report, I’m extremely certain he was attacked by a goblin of some type. What he did to draw it, I don’t know, they’re nasty, vile little creatures, that particularly enjoy eating the fingers from their victims. He likely drew it to him for some purpose or by mistake and was not prepared to deal with it.”

“Wait, they ruled it a robbery gone wrong when his fingers were bitten off?” I asked, unsure of how someone could come to that leap of logic.

“You’d be surprised how willing people not magically-inclined are to sweep that kind of information under a rug. I think it actually hurts their psyche to even think about how something could be magically or paranormally explained. Just look at haunted houses and the like, people get terrified at the idea of it. If you get bored or need a break from practicing, take a look around online for strange autopsy findings, there is so much out there that gets put into a box that doesn’t fit. That’s also why I told you that you should get a dog, magic-related deaths are more prevalent than you’d first imagine.”

“I would need to either get a job or find a way to convince my parents to spring for a more expensive place. I’ve been a recluse for so long that I have no savings and I’m sure I’m not very hirable right now,” I explained.

“Well, having a job while learning magic just won’t work, I got lucky with my grandma leaving me this house and a small inheritance, it got me through the first bit of learning.” He looked me over and grunted. “Tell you what, when you can get some sort of magic going, I’ll offer you a room in my house. I can’t let you do it now because I might unintentionally interfere with you finding your method, but it could be useful in the long term and takes care of the dog issue.”

I sat back and looked around the cluttered, dusty living room. It wouldn’t be a palace, but clutter was something that felt homey and inviting to me. Daniel would never let me live down moving in with him, though when did he ever let me live down anything.

“Okay, that might work out. At this rate though, it might take a while.”

Alan shrugged and stretched. “I think it’s getting close to daylight, so we’ll probably wake up soon.”

“I’ll just get it over with then.” I said, wanting to show off that I had figured some things out already. I held my breath and waited. Dawning horror washed over Alan’s face.

“No, no… no, don’t do that! That is the least safe way to do that, next to someone else waking you up. You should either let it happen naturally or will yourself awake. You do know how to do that, right?”

“I’ve kind of been just holding my breath.” I sheepishly admitted.

Alan gave me a disappointed look and shook his head. “I guess you’re not completely a prodigy. Okay, well, it’s as simple as imagining yourself waking up and what that feels like, then will that to happen. It’s not all that different from how this plane normally works.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, focusing on the fuzzy, disjointed feeling I typically had when I woke up. Before long, I felt the dream plane melt away and I was awake in the real world. Light gently shone through my window, it was early morning. I wasted little time in getting up and ready to go, I had an early appointment with the counselor. Though I wasn’t as certain that I needed her help, it was nice to talk to someone, and it was free.