Nachos at Bedtime

I walked naked across grass filled with great big bumblebees buzzing around dandelions. I followed a meandering path, carefully stepping from one bee-free patch to the next. Finally I reached the old fashioned swing set, the kind with the sturdy board seats. I looked forward to swinging high into the sky, but then worried...what if the neighbors saw me?

I went to take my shower, the same shower I took every morning. But when I got to the bathroom, the tub was full of well-dressed foreign women holding a seminar on New Age. I used the toilet while they finished up.

"Dad is dead," my mother said casually and I ignored her. "Dad is dead," she said again and I knew she wasn't talking about her father, nearly 80, but mine. And she wasn't sad. She didn't even act it. "Oh, fine," I thought as I hung up the phone. "That's just what this screwed-up family needs."

These little vignettes had some sort of plot that bound them all together, but when I woke, I forgot what that was. I can only imagine that it was my friend's homemade nachos eaten shortly before I fell asleep that would take all sorts of waking concerns and put them through a nocturnal assembly line so that they came out like this.

Dreamed by: Antonia