Part 1

Miranda Banerjee had just turned forty-two and celebrated with a glass of wine, a microwave brownie, and a scolding from her cat, Darwin, for forgetting his dinner. She wasn’t sad, not exactly – just… quieter than usual. Her friends were all married, divorced, or suspiciously into hiking. She worked remotely as a proofreader, correcting other people’s passions while sipping peppermint tea in oversized pyjamas.

One rainy night, after binge-watching documentaries about ancient Egyptian curses and texting her cousin an unsolicited critique of modern dating apps, Miranda fell into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.

And that’s when she met him.

She was standing in a Parisian café that didn’t exist on any map, wearing a vintage red dress she never owned and eyeliner that had no right staying that perfect. The waiter brought her espresso and a tiny croissant shaped like a baby elephant.

Then he walked in, this stranger with a crooked smile, paint-stained fingers, and the audacity to wear mismatched socks with dress shoes. He looked at her, blinked once, and said:

“Miranda Banerjee, you still snore like a deranged lawnmower.”

She choked on her espresso. “I do not!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, you do. You did last time, when you fell asleep during our time-travel pirate-heist dream,” he grinned. “Remember? You were the lookout and slept through the cannon fire.”

She stared. “How do you…?”

“Dream physics. We’ve met before. I’m Theo. Artist, coffee snob, allergic to bees and clinginess.”

She frowned. “You sound real. Like, realer than the guy who ghosted me for saying I don’t like Led Zeppelin.”

He laughed a low, warm sound that made her toes curl in dream-sandals. “Well, I’m definitely not real. Unless you are the one haunting my dreams, which would explain why I suddenly know what it feels like to get a pedicure.”

They began walking through the city. At one point, the Eiffel Tower turned into a giant bookshelf, and Theo pulled out a dusty tome titled 101 Times Miranda Laughed at the Wrong Moment. Inside were stories like the time she laughed during a wedding proposal when a pigeon had pooped on the man’s head mid-speech, and the funeral where she giggled because the priest accidentally said, “ashes to avocado.”

Theo added, “Also, you once set fire to a kitchen towel because you thought ‘warming tortillas over the stove’ didn’t require adult supervision.”

Miranda blushed. “You know too much. This is creepy.”

“Creepy is me knowing your Netflix password: DarwinHatesMondays.”

She threw a butter knife at him. It turned into a butterfly midair and flitted away.