After crying for an hour, I calmed down to pay the technicians and drove home. My heart still ached the rest of the afternoon and into the night, and only a pint of chocolate ice cream comforted me until I fell asleep.

It wasn’t a restful sleep. I found myself in a nightmare of a dream. My left ankle was chained to a work desk, and a massive dark silhouette resembling Miss Billings loomed over me while I worked. A hand reached out, and when I looked up, Louis, in a tuxedo, appeared. His smile cheered me up and somehow broke the chain that trapped me. Miss Billings’ shadow became smaller.

He took me by the hand and kissed my cheek. We entered a lavish gold ballroom and waltzed cheek to cheek. I looked down to see that my outfit changed into a bright pink dress and heels, the same color as a flamingo. A bell rang out from a grand balcony upstairs, and a queen, in a rose-colored attire, appeared. When we passed by, I noticed her face resembled Miss Martha, only cold and stern. A shiver crept up my spine as her eyes met mine, and I tripped and fell on my knees. This time, though, Louis didn’t grab my hand. Instead, he walked away without looking back and courted another woman. I called out to Louis, but my heavy gown held me down. In an instant, it dissolved and turned into a herd of flamingos. I tried to escape, but they snapped at me with their sharp beaks.

Miss Martha looked at my predicament and cackled, with Louis and his new girlfriend. A piercing honk echoed through the ballroom and an enormous version of the flamingo Frutti appeared. She bent her neck down to pick me up. Once caught in the giant Frutti’s beak, she swallowed me whole.

“NO!” I shouted. I sat up to find myself in the familiar surroundings of my bedroom, not in a flamingo’s stomach. In my slumber, a frame from my bedside drawer had fallen. I picked it up to see a picture of Louis and me after a date at the farmer’s market. My sadness from yesterday was soon replaced with anger. I smashed the image in a rage, then retrieved my cell phone to make a fateful call.

“Hello?” Miss Billings asked at the other end of the line.

“Miss Billings,” I gritted my teeth, “Have I got a story for you.”

Editor: Lucy Cafiero