i had a dream that i fell asleep in a car and woke in a cute town in washington. i asked the driver as we pulled into a green hilly neighborhood exactly where we were. he told me we were home.
i thought about how far we had traveled and compared it to the distance we hadn’t yet. something on my list was crossed off only to reveal the waterfall of items below it. i was excited, i was happy, and for the first time in almost a year i wasn’t afraid of anything. i thought about going back, but not as much as i thought about what it would be like to never go back again.
a good portion of my dream consisted of fictional recollections, which is odd because i normally find it impossible to have specific thoughts in dreams and act purely on impulse. i lied in my new bed and thought about how i said goodbye to my father, closing my eyes and replaying it again and again in my head. every so often i would open my eyes, take a momentary glance at the room, exhale, and submerge into thought again. like a whale coming to the surface for air. not because i wanted to, but because i instinctively felt i had to. with each break for sight the room grew more dim, the light more orange, the sky a dark blue.
i woke abruptly to the sound of construction, followed by the quiet drone of news radio. good morning NPR, tell me how chile is doing.