Excerpt of Marigny Street by Annie Rose Welch

I shook my head. “Tell me, Gabriel, what are your dreams about?”

“Nothing. I never dream.” He shrugged.

“Never?”

“I’ve never once in my life had a dream. And I never look
in a mirror – or I try my hardest not to anyway.”

“Why?” How could you never dream? Or look in a mirror?

He sighed. “I believe the only things in this life that can
truly show your reflection are the things you love the most
in this world. And I don’t love myself enough to want to
look in the mirror.” He laughed. “But when I look at you I
can see myself perfectly. And even though I never dream, I
do pray. Do you want to know what I prayed for before I met
you?”

I nodded.

“I prayed for an angel – to save me. I asked for a little
help from up above, and now you’re here. You are cake and
ice cream; sugar and spice, and everything nice. And when
you smile, you make me feel the way the world looks when the
sun shines through a foggy day.”

All I could do was smile.