What do you think of my short story that I based off a dream?

And this be my dream Cobblestone street, we are on a corner, your huddled up next to me, not touching me. The walls of the closest house are a off-cream, paint cracking and peeling, and the roof is brown ceramic tiles, with some moss/aging showing. Behind us is a corner of a house with black roof tiles, or really dark maroon. Cant remember which, I can only see the corner of its roof from my over-head angle of view

There are flowers in the windowsill of the creme house, and they are dead… The window is smashed..

Windy and dark… This is about the sky it was when we head back into a pub, tudor style, dark wood, ebony I think, with that same sort of creamy finish, and heavy wooden chairs and benches… We headed upstairs into the darkened candlelit rooms and fell asleep, side by side…

Your hair held in a tight bun by two mahogany hair-sticks, a few strands falling astray on your face, irritating your eyes, as I wake up… I undo your hair, the stressed lines from your forehead fading. My hand strokes against your cheek, you shudder in your sleep, the could touch of my hands startling you, and you come about..

We head out again, bright sun striking our faces, you emit a low sound from deep inside your throat, as its head sears your pale skin. As we walk, we admire the trees lined up on either sides of us, leafs red and gold, the glory of autumn shining through them, and as we pass the, the sun going straight through the leaves, your skin is illuminated by the most beautiful range of colors, reds, amber, orange, yellow, and your dark brown hair gleaming with a sheen of gold laid into it…