Wow. Was out in the shop before it got light out, decided after a bit that I wouldn’t last the day. Went back in for a brief nap if possible.
Wow. Woke a few minutes ago, stumbled back out here clinging to a hot cup of coffee. And remembering the last part of a dream. Huge party somewhere. Loads of people. Nancy’s I think. She let me put the strung beef I found in our car from last week into her freezer. My niece acting cool, mad-at-me-cool. I asked her if it was because of her mom and me and the house. No, worse.
She’s in a mess because that candy I told her to sell made everybody sick, some people died, some are just mad at her for trying to make them buy it. Like back in grade school with the nuns. I don’t remember. What candy? I ask. She says I know damn well it’s the candy I sold her. Huh? She says it’s tied to a bogus church group and shows me a letter with letterhead sparkled with stars and gold flowers. Meyers First Church of Reunion I read. I still don’t know what she’s talking about, but I tell her she should have told me right away, that I don’t understand but I’ll do what I can to help her. We walk up the street, I turn and go back. The gravel is hard without shoes.
A good lot of my dreams are of these huge rambling houses filled with people. And there is usually someone I know well who holds a problem past or current out to me on a metaphorical platter. I think that is why in my waking time I avoid parties and crowds.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology