What dreams may come..

“How’re you?”

“I’m okay..”

”So lukewarm?! What happened, my darling?”

“Not much..well, you know sometimes how have a weird dream? And when you wake up, the only thing you remember is it being really weird, and then you spend all day trying to remember why it was so weird?”

“Yea..pretty much like all my dreams..and then something happens that reminds you? And you wish you never remembered?”

“Yes..it’s terribly frustrating. It’s a frustrating way to live, if you ask me. Frustrating, yet enlightening. I guess that’s why they say ‘Ignorance is Bliss’”

“It totally is. What was this dream then?”

“I can't completely recall it but I know it involved a few people and a rat dying and it made me cry a lot- in the dream, I mean. And when I woke up, I actually found my pillow drenched with tears.”

“Youch.”

“I don’t remember much, but I remember asking a man ‘How do you know the rat is dying?’ and the horrible man smiled and said ‘You’ll know only after it is dead.’ It struck me as a very mean thing to say.”

“Dreams should only be nice and happy.”

”They should, shouldn’t they? I mean we’ve got enough crap to deal with in the real world.”

“Tell me about it.”



A haunting line she read somewhere sprang to mind – ‘When you dream, sometimes you remember. When you wake, you always forget.’
She shook her head in confusion, as if that would help to rearrange all the pieces into something even vaguely comphrehensive.

Then she carried about her business.
And forgot.
Like she did- every other day.