I was in a run-down amusement park where most of the rides had collapsed and were piled on top of each other. I walked over to one to get Isabelle from the exit, but instead I saw my father princess-carrying Elena down the steep metal stairs. Isabelle followed. I snatched her by the hand and we walked off, but not before I met Elena’s eyes. My dream self knew she had been babysitting Isabelle. My sister and I walked across pits of garbage and debris of broken wood and metal. I remember thinking how dangerous it was but I helped her through and told her I didn’t want to meet Elena that way.
I looked through a large volume of Gibson Girl illustrations of all the girls lined up for George after I’m gone.
I had to transfer to Rutgers. The last task I had to do at MICA was to find a baby cradle. I was on a ship, and as we sailed the approaching ocean was filled with floating baby cradles. We took one from the water.
I lived with Taylor and her roommates. It was okay at first; the beginning of the dream was full of little things that were happy, but then on the first day of class I couldn’t find my schedule. I had to open this secret binder to the dead center to find a pink slip, which I then had to put in a compartment in my computer for my classes to show up. Everyone left and I didn’t know the bus schedule. I was painting something. There was a boy in my room. “You know, I do a little painting myself.” I laughed. I was in class, somehow. Everyone was speaking jibberish. I called my mother to tell her about how miserable I was and about the baby cradles. I left the dream knowing that I would return to MICA.
A group of people was playing volleyball. I took the small children from the group. I had a little boy with dark skin on my lap. We watched the game. My family lived on a boat.
I was walking through the forest with a friend who lived there. I can’t see their face. It was fall and the forest was alive with yellow and gold. Over a hill I saw a dilapidated dark wooden house that was falling over. I asked my friend “what is that doing there?” They answered that it had been there as long as they could remember. I took another look down in the ravine. Through the glass windows I saw a few porcelain dolls. Their heads turned around to look at me. We ran through the woods, the yellow was a blur. We found another house. I don’t think my friend had seen this one before. We went inside. It had been abandoned and there was a thick film of dust on every piece of peeling and broken wood. There were toys on shelves and on a table. The dolls moved again, but this time I was not afraid. I looked in a broken mirror and saw and old man moving the toys. He only existed in the mirror. The ghost was wearing a brown shirt and pants. I thought he was toymaker. He was just lonely.
I knew the other house had no such ghost. I would never have approached it.
I was swimming with thousands of pigeons. I felt their wet feathers against my shoulders. We moved as one entity in the grey ocean. I thought they might turn on me, peck me to death, but I couldn't stop swimming. It was raining and the water felt like silk.
A girl in the elevator- her mother wasn’t paying attention. The little girl ran through the open door and I knew she would be gone forever had I not picked her up and brought her back in the waiting room. I kissed her on the cheek. She was wearing a plaid coat and had curly hair. I realized she was my daughter.
My mother had another 5 children at one time. She was the talk of the town. I couldn’t keep track of all the newborns. She was famous around here for awhile. She looked happy.
There was a mall world that I was in. It was full of escalators and art pieces of tv screens. It all fit into a piece of aluminum foil, which was dropped into my hand at the end of the dream. I crushed it like a leftover crust in the foil.
We talked about opinions in a group. I raised my hand to answer a question.
“I would not be so set in my ways now. I could indulge other opinions and perhaps alter my own- admit I was wrong in my own head.”
Kelsey Warren was sitting next to me. “Do you like Coldplay?”
“Coldplay sucks.”
“No they don’t!”
Who was right?
“Okay, but Viva La Vida was awful.”
I was driving past the field by my house, only now it was covered in corn and cows. Mr. Luigi, my old bus driver, was driving the MICA shuttle. When we were a street away from my house he got out and started walking back from where we came. I lit a cigarette and started driving the shuttle forward.
