Why did I dream about you, after all this time? You were there in a sketch the way you once were. And the two of us were going home together, my place or yours. Yet we were older, there was a space between who we were now and who we were before, when we were lovers. And it was late, the time of day you only make bad decisions. And for some reason we were in a hotel buffet with lots of people, and they all looked at us and could tell we were hooking up. And you wore that face like yeah, I’m going home with him. And for some reason, perhaps the illogical nature of dreams, I wore a heavy backpack with lots of straps hanging off it undone. And could even feel the weight of it as we got onto the elevator and the doors closed.
Bill Pearse 
A dream like that has a weight in itself. I know that feeling. And why? Where do those dream phantoms come from? Love it.
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Happy belated Thanksgiving! I thought of you yesterday when I looked at my paper calendar in the kitchen. Good time for a harvest and for family…hope yours was good! And thanks for reading, great to see you again.
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Missed this. Thanks. Had a full, full house.
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All good
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That backpack would get a LOT of discussion in a dream-share group! Especially the loose straps.
Wake up exhausted from the weight?
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Ha ha I know! Yeah more fascinated than anything. Seeing your teenaged sweetheart kind of unaged, weird.
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Yeah, I thought the same thing about the backpack. Cry backpack Havoc, and let slip the random firings of our brains. I try to never get on elevators in my dreams, no telling how far down it’s going.
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It was my old pack too, of course. “Gregory.”
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I think the husband of one of my cousins might’ve worked for that company, in Utah. I remember them being excited when he got a product placement in one of the Jurassic Park sequels, but I watched and couldn’t see it. Such an interesting dream, very cool. The baggage we carry. I’ve read in stories, I think the ’60’s, people would say “What’s your bag, man?” Don’t know if that really happened. And now I hear people say, “Let’s unpack that…”
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Papa’s got a brand new bag, right?! James Brown! I can hear that jangling little guitar riff…and the horns…
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Very nicely done, sir.
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Cheers my friend! Thank god for dreams (when life feels otherwise too predictable)
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They may be our last resort – not to be too apocalyptic. Actually, Bill, your dream piece could be flash fiction. So many strands suggested in those undone straps.
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Yeah I’m not above being too apocalyptic. That viability seeps in and I think has a global, similar impact on us. Feeling it a lot less here than other places, but feeling it still. And you know, re: flash fiction, reading every short story by Raymond Carver ain’t making things much cheerier! Ha! I guess I bring it on myself 😌
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You told the story of the dream so clearly I could see it
A nice bit of work.
Now, about that bag…
(HaHa)
Thanks
DD
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Hi David and thank you! Enjoy your day my friend.
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