Day 2

There are limits to what the sane mind can dispute pre-coffee. I thought my visit from Anubis was a dream. Was, in fact, pondering the symbolism of the dream and wondering which parts of my past or stress Anubis represented when I walked into my den with my morning cuddle of coffee, aiming to watch the sunrise in my favorite chair.

He was reading a power-blue book in my second favorite chair, surrounded by the blush pink of dawn.

“I do love a good mystery,” he murmured with a good morning nod.

I grunted. I agreed but had too many criteria for the statement to discuss with anyone before coffee, much less a hallucinatory visiting deity I should probably be polite to. I settled into my favorite chair, wondered what it meant to be dreaming of waking up from a dream, and sipped my way into wakefulness. Then my brain pattered around until it found a name for the power-blue book.

“You’re reading Jane Austen.”

Anubis nodded, turning the page. “One of the finest mystery novelists of all time, in my opinion.”

My chiropractor had given me a stern reprimand for sleeping on books and I had tried to clear my bed before unconsciousness took over. I wondered if I had reverted and Northanger Abbey was currently lodged under my shoulder.

“Mysteries? Jane Austen wrote romances. Well, romances steeped in social commentary with a dash of satire, but that’s currently beside the point. Mysteries are Agatha Christie, Sherlock Holmes, Robert Ludlum—” I trailed off, trying to think of other examples.

Anubis snorted. “What is so mysterious about death?”

I stared at him, wondering where to start and whether another cup of coffee would be necessary for this conversation.

“Now love,” Anubis sighed, “That’s a mystery. Whom one might fall in love with. What they must overcome to be together. What makes one person love another, even what makes the reader love the persons involved. The tempering of attraction into love.” He smiled and turned another page. “Yes, Jane Austen was a master.”

Needless to say, there wasn’t much to do in the face of such an argument so early in the morning. Or mid-dream. There was only one thing to do—let Anubis finish Pride and Prejudice and get another very large cup of coffee while I waited to wake up.