lots to write about today, but I have to record this dream.
It’s another old one. I don’t know how many times over how many years I’ve dreamt this dream. maybe a dozen, maybe a hundred. I think I might have recorded it before, maybe a decade ago. or I intended to, but never got around to it, or the dream itself planted that suggestion in my mind, so I woke up with that impression, even if I don’t have a specific recollection of the prior event. or do I? because I know sometimes in dreams the effect can preceed the cause. and something happens for a reason, as if you could imagine the opposite or perhaps the inverse of “because.”
Anita and I are on the run. We have been for some time, and we’re tired and running ragged. We are running across the city, finally finding ourselves stumbling across some railroad tracks in an old, possibly abandoned rail yard. Night is coming on and it is getting cold. She is getting tired. I wrap her up in my coat, and we scramble up onto a loading dock. At least its covered, and out of the wind. We huddle together there, without speaking, our butts on the cold concrete, old brick walls of the warehouse at our backs, a desolate feeling in our hearts. I put my arms around her, and as she falls asleep, I gaze out across the tracks, and past the ramshackle fence that surrounds it and beyond that toward the dark and empty city.