The first section of this was taken from a dream I had.
I didn’t change it much, which accounts for the odd twists and turns.
I even thought of the title when I was half-dreaming, though I wasn’t
sure quite what it meant.  I chopped off the end of my dream, because,
although it continued with Meg, it wasn’t relevant to Little Men.
(It went off onto a branch of Bonanza. lol)  Hope you enjoy it!

Part One

     Meg laughed and gripped Edward’s hand like a young girl and ducked under the tree branches where their favorite picnic table was.  She stopped and silently stared at the women who were chatting happily at the table.  One older woman with a dignified air and expensive clothing, a few younger women.  They all seemed poised and unconcerned, with eyelids half-lowered at her.
     No words were said, but one of the younger women smiled good-naturedly and ducked away; the other women followed.
     Edward smiled and pulled her down with him to the picnic bench.
     “It’s lovely under here.  Just like a hide-away room with walls of branches and leaves,” Meg said dreamily.
     “You’re lovelier than any tree,” Edward smiled and touched her face.
     Meg blushed.
     The wind drifted through the branches and twirled a bit of Meg’s hair.
     Without another word, Meg stooped under the tree branches and went out.  Edward frowned and went after her.
     Meg was looking at two miniature picture frames, holding them tenderly in her palms.  There were no pictures in them, only a faded background and the names of people written in them.  The tiny wooden frames, about an inch wide, had always been mysterious to Meg, for she knew that they must have held photographs of which the names described.  Carefully, she inserted her fingernail under the space between the frame and the background, where she thought she could see the edge of something. . . . It slowly slid out with her prodding, and there was a miniature photograph of five people!  The black-and-white picture was hard to see, and she bent low to examine the faces.  Four women and two men in two different rows.  The names behind told who was who . . . Sarah was the name of one of the women.
     She did the same with the other frame, pulling out with her fingernail a faded print of a room, blank at first, but slowly she could see there were other things in the room such as a lamp and couch.
     Edward forgotten, Meg suddenly found that the scene in the photograph had become real, and was before her, only not in a room, but outside and by the water.  There was the couch and a hardwood floor.  Somehow a man seemed to come with this scene, as well.  He was a young man, handsomer than Edward, and he grinned at her and took her hand.  They waltzed and waltzed around the wooden floor until they were dizzy. Then they sank to the couch.  Meg was giggling freely and feeling quite wonderful.
     The couch moved backwards into the water, and they were floating.  The plush red couch rocked on the waves and Meg laughed with the mysterious stranger.  He was still holding her hand.
     Edward watched open-mouthed from the ground where was standing.
     “This is fun!” Meg exclaimed, and the young man smiled at her.
     “You can hold my hand, but you hold him even worse,” he said in amusement.  He meant Edward, and meant that she certainly held Edward’s hand more than this and even embraced him at times.  His odd wording didn’t confuse Meg.
     By the time they had jumped on shore, Edward was gone.  Meg could imagine his disgust and disappointment with her.  Right now she was too happy to worry about Edward, and was only concerned with looking at the man’s face next to her.

     Meg flicked at her hair and rolled over with a moan.  The light was shining brightly in her eyes, and she didn’t want to wake up.
     The dream startled her now, the more she thought about it.  Floating couches and photographs come alive!  And a young man she found more exciting than Edward.
     She rubbed her forehead as if to erase the dream that she had found pleasurable.
     A mental picture of Harrison Bridger flicked into her mind.  She had danced with him that night, had seen his humorous, excited smile.  She had been timid to step on his foot, but his intentions had been so honorable and noble.  She wished she hadn’t actually hurt his foot so much.  The way he smiled at her, the amused twinkle in his eyes . . .
     Edward was too solemn most of the time.  Too concerned with appearances and tradition.  He was polite but lacked spirit.  She would break her engagement with him.
     This decided, she rose from bed and dressed in a cheery and bold dark red and yellow dress.

     The children were in school, but Jo said they would be done soon.
     Meg had come over in her wagon, and was now standing in the kitchen chatting with Asia.
     “Do you ever have interesting dreams, Asia?” Meg asked.
     Asia rolled out a clump of dough, evening the thickness.  “Sure.  Lot’s of interestin’ things.  Sometimes I dream about my family, sometimes ‘bout Miz Jo and the child’un . . . sometimes about men,” she laughed and looked a little embarrassed.
     “Men?” Meg repeated.  “Do you have anyone in mind?”
     Asia shrugged and continued flattening the dough.  “Well, uh, the man I went to the dance with is real sweet, and um, handsome.”
     Meg smiled.  “I’m sure he must think the same of you.”
     Asia put the thin layer of dough into a shallow pan and cut the dough around edges off.  Meg fiddled with her lace cuffs.
     “I had a very interesting dream this morning.  Some things seemed like magic.  Dreams sometimes don’t follow reason.  But . . . the dream made me think.  I don’t really want to marry Edward,” Meg sighed.
     “I figured as much,” Asia commented while spreading blueberries onto the dough.
     Meg's head jerked up.  “How could you guess when I had already consented to marry him?”
     Asia shrugged slightly.  “Mostly a feelin’, I guess.  An’ you never seemed too happy when you were around him.”
     “It’s not that I don’t like him, but—Edward is—Edward.  Apathetic, in some ways. . . . Harrison made me float on air. . .”

     Jo dusted her hands off and called to the students, “Class is over!  We’ll be leaving for Walden Pond soon!”
     The kids cheered and went their ways, chattering about the picnic.
     Jo smiled and piled the textbooks neatly on the desk.  She headed for the house, which most of the children had already entered.
     Meg was standing inside, saying hello to the children.
     “Hello, Meg!” Jo welcomed.
     “Hello, Jo!  Dan tells me you’re going on a picnic this afternoon.”
     Jo nodded.  “Yes. You’re more than welcome to come along!”
     “Thank you,” Meg smiled and smoothed a wrinkle from her dress.
     “My, you look lovely, Meg!  Is that a new dress?”
     “Amy gave it to me.  She said she was getting too fat for it.”
     Jo laughed.  “She loves to eat, but she always manages to stay in shape.  More likely she was getting tired of it and wanted more new dresses.  But it’s lovely!”
     Meg looked down and smiled.
     Jo straightened up.  “You wanted to talk to me about something?”
     “It will wait,” she said quietly.  “Maybe we can talk about it at the picnic.”
     “All right, if you’re sure.”
      Meg nodded in reassurance.  “Is there anything I can help with to get ready?”
     Jo pondered and looked around.  “Well, Asia’s taking care of the food, and the boys are getting the wagon ready. . . . I think we’re all set to go!”
     Nick popped his head in the front door and announced. “Jo, the wagon has a broken wheel.”
     Jo laughed and glanced at Meg.  “Well, so much for that!”

Part 2

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Title font is Edwardian Script ITC, and the story font is Book Antiqua.
Please do not use any of the graphics on this page without
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