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  For an instant, Johnson’s tanned face became pale. “Oh no, that isn’t John Roper, Mr. Jacobsen,” he whispered. “That’s Mr. Jones, one of our senior executives.”

  “Well I’ll be damned if the resemblance isn’t remarkable,” said Sam still looking at the man in the garden.

  “It is,” remarked Johnson, “but he hates it when people mistake him for John Roper.”

  “So old Roper’s dead?” Sam asked turning to Johnson again.

  “Physically dead but virtually alive” he reassured Sam. “And he’s very happy of his new virtual status,” Johnson commented whilst making a reassuring grin.

  After going past the garden, they then went through what seemed an interminable white corridor full of gray doors on both sides. None of the doors had any names or signs on it.

  They continued walking through various hallways and open spaces in what seemed to Sam like an interminable labyrinth. Although from the outside the building did not seem particularly large, inside Sam felt like he had walked across an entire football stadium. What’s more, Johnson did not seem to slow down and keeping up with him was becoming more and more difficult until Sam was finally too tired to go any further. He stopped and began to breathe heavily. “Wait, Mr. Johnson, stop. I can’t go on any further. I need to rest for a couple of minutes,” he managed to say.

  Johnson stopped “Oh, of course, Mr. Jacobsen, I’m sorry if I walked too fast. In any event, we’ve arrived. This is my office,” he said as he indicated a gray door just in front of them.

  “It seems we’re back to where we started,” commented Sam between gasps. “Don’t you folks get lost around here? All the doors seem the same.”

  “Well, it gets a bit of practice but then, after a while, we all manage to find our way,” said Johnson as he opened the door.

  They entered into a small white room with no windows and an unusually low ceiling, or at least that was the impression Sam had. The room was empty except for one metallic gray table, two gray chairs of the same material and a plant, which Sam recognized being a Weeping Fig.

  “How can the fig thrive inside here with no sun?” asked Sam.

  “Oh, here at Sweet Dreams we’re very good at making things apparently impossible become possible. Please take a seat, Mr. Jacobsen.”

  Sam sat down and looked at the desk in front of him. There were no papers, no pens, telephones, computers, nothing. It was just an empty table. Mr. Johnson sat on the other side, and Sam noticed only now that the manager had not brought anything with him either. The two of them sat facing one other, each looking at the other without saying anything. Mr. Johnson crossed his hands over the table and looked at Sam smilingly.

  Sam couldn’t stand the silence. “So what happens now?” he asked nervously.

  “Now we wait,” replied Johnson who had not stopped looking at Sam.

  “Wait for what?” asked Sam.

  “For coffee and tea, of course,” said Johnson.

  There was a knock on the door and a secretary brought in a tray with the hot beverages. She left as discreetly as she had entered.

  “What would you like?” asked Johnson.

  “Coffee please”

  “Sugar?” asked Johnson putting in one lump before waiting for the answer.

  “No thanks,” said Sam.

  “Oh I’m sorry, I inadvertently put one lump in,” said Johnson.

  “Never mind,” replied Sam.

  After they both had their coffees, Johnson looked seriously towards Sam. “Now Mr. Jacobsen, before we start, I want you to know that Sweet Dreams takes its customers’ complaints very seriously and we strive to ensure that our customer satisfaction always reaches the highest level…”

  Sam began to feel drowsy and weak. The long walk had tired him and now all he wanted to do was fall asleep.

  “Our company values, I assure you, are based on the highest moral conduct…”

  Sam was beginning to listen with his eyes closed. He felt much better that way. He opened them again only to see that the room was moving or maybe it was his head which was spinning due to the fatigue; he wasn’t sure. Mr. Johnson was smiling at him, although Sam had the impression that Johnson was trying to control a burst of laughter. The room now began to spin faster and faster and Sam felt the walls were becoming smaller. He began to feel sick as Johnson started laughing out loud. In the mean time the room continued to shrink; so much so that Sam was under the impression that he wasn’t in a room any longer but rather he had been placed in a small white cube. The spinning of the cube went faster and faster and although he couldn’t be sure of anything anymore, Sam thought he heard Mr. Johnson say the words sweet dreams in between the laughter.

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  “Sam? Are you there?”

  When Sam opened his eyes, the last thing he would have expected was to find himself at his sister’s place in Boise.

  “Alison? What’s going on?” he asked. “How did I get here?”

  “Sam listen, the people at Sweet Dreams told me that they didn’t have a chance to explain things to you because of some technical error or something. Anyway, you’re now going to be with us. They told me that it was Deirdre’s last wishes when she died. Oh, and Sweet Dreams reassured me that it’s all paid for so there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “What are you talking about Alison? What the hell am I doing here in Boise? I was in Pasadena only minutes ago.”

  “Sam dear,” she said with a sigh “let me explain things better to you but I want you to relax all right? Take a deep breath.”

  “Explain what Alison?”

  “Sam, you passed away in their offices and they were kind enough to immediately activate the virtual transfer program.”

  “What do you mean passed away?” he said, “I never felt better.”

  “The manager who was with you was kind enough to give you priority over a long list of people who were waiting to do the transfer. Apparently they just caught you in time. Another second and they would not have been able to connect to your brain and we wouldn’t be here talking about it. Anyway listen, we’re going to have all the time in the world to discuss these aspects and talk about the good old days but now I’m in a bit of a hurry and I just wanted to make sure that you were fine and all in the, you know, in the virtual world or whatever it’s called.”

  “Wait, Alison, hold on…”

  “I can’t, I’m already late for my hairdresser! So here’s what I’m going to do, I’m going to turn you off for now but I’ll turn you on tomorrow which is Sunday. Or wait, actually Herb and I have been invited to our neighbors’ tomorrow because their daughter is getting married so maybe we’ll connect on Monday. Or worse case Tuesday. Yes, Tuesday’s better because Monday I have my Origami lesson at the community center.”

  “Wait Alison, just wait all right? Just give me five minutes to understand all this better…”

  “Good-bye dear,” she said, “You just rest now.”

  Alison turned the white box off and put it on top of her chimney, close to the ashes of her Aunt Leslie. Then she thought about it again and it somehow struck her that the chimney was not a very appropriate place to put what ultimately was a
n appliance. So she removed it from the chimney and placed it inside her kitchen cabinet, to the right of the espresso machine that Herb had brought her for Christmas.

  She then hurriedly closed the kitchen cabinet worried she would be late for her hairdresser. She was ready to leave the house but then she hesitated for a moment. She went back into the kitchen, opened the cabinet again, and looked at the cube. “Sweet Dreams Sam,” she whispered, and then closed the cabinet and left.

  About the Author

  Roberto Ricci is a fiction writer of short stories, novels and screenplays. His works have been published in Canada and in France. He has been amongst other things a journalist and a Senior Executive in a children’s entertainment company. He has attended NYU and the European Business School and has lived in Tokyo, New York, Rome, Milan, Paris and London.

  www.amazon.com/author/robertoricci

  The following eBooks are also available from the same author:

  The Red Harlequin Book Series

  The Bestselling Fantasy Series that’s taking the throne away from vampires and wizards!

  Over 100,000 reads on Wattpad!

  Sold and translated internationally!

  Available in Kindle & paperback editions

  In a world where everyone wears masks and superstitions abound, the color of your chrome determines who you are and where you will live.

  And if you will live.

  Here, Asheva, a 14 year old Chrome of the Black Nation, will see his world crumble underneath him, as events too big for his age will force him to run away from his native city of Axyum.

  A new journey will take him to lands with different colors and different ways from the Black. From a desperate escape through the hills and forests of the Black Nation to the vast Blue Plains of the city of Ayas, Asheva will learn to face the dangers of the wilderness but also to face the even more dangerous nature of the Chromes, including the worst accusation a Chrome can be charged with.

  Only then he will realize that beneath the masks that all Chromes wear, nothing is what it seems.

  The Return

  Daniel is an American expat living in Italy. After a business deal gone sour, he loses himself in the Italian Summer where he will confront his past and find the way to make amends with his present. The Return takes the reader on an emotional road trip from Milan to Florence to Spoleto through the critical and passionate eye of its author.