Dreams


A housefly flew into my face, and I woke up. It was the shortest dream I've ever had.

The most beautiful thing I have dreamed, ever not-seen, was when I was walking down a dirt road alone and there were fields that went on forever. Everything was orange and dusky, and there were thousands of fireflies. The air was warm and although I was completely alone, I felt at peace.

I had a dream with an alternate ending. I wrote it out to be three pages long, but it's behind the driver's seat of my car that's parked in New Jersey.

There was a waterfall with a brook at the top in the forest, crumbling ruins and a friend without a face. We were both children.

I was in a Paris-like city, it was deserted and I walked into a restaurant. I could see a shady looking person through the doorway seated five booths behind me. The waiter said I was being too loud, so I left and saw Cindy on the way out and remembered her wrist tattoo of a small bird. I warned her about being too loud inside and then I stepped out of a New Hope consignment shop. I went to a sold out concert with a girl and we went to the basement of the place, but it wasn't a concert. There were colors marching around and everyone was hooked up to wires.

I was walking around a merchant street and found an abandoned kiosk full of tiny Buddha figures. I thought I would take the stand for myself and make a living, but the owner saw me and told me I was in a tremendous amount of trouble, so I ran from him and through the streets of sand.

A Holocaust role call took place around my dilapidated swing-set. There was a mass killing and shooting, but I escaped to my house up the hill. I crawled through the kitchen cupboard to an air vent, through the tunnel on my hands and knees until I passed over a room below. I could barely see through the fan on the ceiling and the slits in the air vent, but there were Gestapo men there and they heard me. Another person trying to escape was in front of me in the air duct, and when the men looked up at me I looked at the other person, and we saw in each others faces the realization that we would be killed.

It was my little sister's friend's birthday party. There was a maze in the basement with crawlspaces like an indoor jungle gym, so I waited for her in the foyer while the party wrapped up. I asked the mother where she was, and she looked alarmed when she realized Isabelle, my sister, was outside.  Night was falling around the courtyard that the houses faced at some direction, and there was a sense of panic. People were running into their homes and herding their children. I understood in a matter of a second that whoever wasn't inside after the sun set would die; then everything was in slow motion. Isabelle ran to me from across the lawn. I didn't think we would make it, but I snatched her up in my outstretched arms and we ducked inside. There were still children in the grass, too far to reach.