isn't this what you were looking for?

we dream of raised fists and spin moves. ice rinks and peanut butter.

In the dream, I am sitting there in my room. I hear a noise, at the window. There is a light and I do not like light or noise when I sleep, so I have to stop. I sit up. I am sitting up and, when I look over, I see my shadow on the wall, because of the light.
Yeah, well, and here's the thing - the shadow gets up and grabs a shadow knife. It makes its way to my parents’ room, where I am pretty sure they are having sex. I see my shadow pull back the covers and I can see it on the floor and going up to my parent’s room. Because my parents room is upstairs, and I can hear their bed hitting the wall, and it's my fucking dream so of course I know what's going on.
I hear voices in the living room, and all the boys I’ve ever kissed are just sitting there, as my shadow goes by killing all of their shadows, ,and I feel like I’ve lost control of the dream. Then I laugh, because there they all are, and now my shadow will never let them get into Never Never Land. There are no cars outside. We can never escape.

I start to forget this is a dream when I look out the window and realize there are no cars. I see my uncle there under a tree, completely inebriated and totally appropriate: his penis is out. He is peeing nutragrow on the lawn.
Then the dream changes. I’m in my car. I worry I’ve fallen asleep driving again, and that's when I see it. A deer. It's standing in the road, illuminated by my headlights like spotlights because they are on the front of my car to show me the things in the dark I cannot see, and I freeze, and I panic because this is a fucking deer. It is standing in my headlights. It is the only thing I can see because everything else is fucking black.

Then it jumps. Straight at me.

As I see its head go through the windshield, I know how it will break, the windshield. I know it is a girl deer and not a boy deer. Because of antlers. I know that they’re not there, and how this is probably somebody’s mother and how that is worse than somebody’s father. I know then that this is all clear even though my hands are covering my eyes and mouth because I forget how to close it, and I might be peeing a little.

When I wake up, it's more to remember that I was dreaming than anything else. I pick up my phone and send Allen a text message to see if he's up, because I’m not him and I don't call people at three in the morning, just because I’m lonely. I say I had a bad dream and now I can't sleep. I say, “foureyes.”

He calls. "So, wait, what happened?"

"I had a bad dream. I can't sleep now. I will soon though."

"Well, hey. I'm real proud. I am glad."

"Yeah? Why?"

"Because it's good. That you can overcome this terrible obstacle. That something bad happened and now I get to feel like I’m important."

"So this is about your vanity."

"This is always about my vanity. What was the dream, Ada?"

"Why do you care?"

"Was I in it? I was. You had to wake up and tell me you dreamed about me. It's ok."

"Oh yeah? Dreaming about you would be a bad dream."

"Which is what you would say to raise my concern."


"So I expect to know when you dream about me."

"I won't dream about you."

"Ada, you had a bad dream and now you're talking to me. While it's true that I can
lull people to sleep, let's face it."

"Thought ends there?"

"Right there."


"Yes. Hey. How's your bones?"


"At least you're consistent."

"Mmm. Allen, I'm going to sleep now."

"Sweet dreams, Ada."

And when he texts me the sound of a raspberry, I think it's cute. I don't know that I understand this.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

first or second favorite?

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