I had this weird ass dream about a month ago. It was right before a visit home.
The imagery was so vivid, and the scenario so odd, that as soon as I woke up I took out my phone and starting writing. I documented the experience originally on Twitter. This is a transcript of the thread.
I dreamt I was inexplicably transported to his house. I’ve never been to his house. I don’t even know where he lives. I saw empty baby bottles in the dish rack and pictures of his marriage. He never wore a ring around me. I was in shock, scared what he’d do when he saw me. 1/n
I dreamt I quietly took two steps down the hall. He stepped out of a room, a stained baby towel on his left shoulder. He saw me, and his eyes went wide.
“What are you doing here?” he said in a harsh whisper.
“I don’t know how I got here.”
I turned around and was back at home. 2/n
I dreamt we met for coffee and I told him about the dream.
“What does it mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It wasn’t my dream. Are you asking me something?” 3/n
I dreamt I was back in the dream. He had gotten me quickly and quietly out of the house. We rushed down the street to a neighborhood bar with an outside second level deck. He hollered up.
“Hey Biggs!” A guy stopped talking and leaned over the railing to look at us.
“Yeah man.” 4/n
I dreamt he hollered back, “Help her. She needs a friend.”
His grip on my arm, which I hadn’t noticed before, loosened and fell away. He looked at me, then turned and walked away. 5/n
I dreamt I was back out of the dream, again with him. He and I casually walk down the street. Suddenly a car has a minor accident behind us, stopping with its bumper tapping a tree. A woman gets out of the car. It’s the same woman from his wedding photos in my dream. 6/n
I dreamt she steps out of the car. His eyes go wide. His light grey suit flaps in the wind as he rushes over to her. She’s older, yelling in Spanish. A black male cop appears beside me.
“Looks like it’s a minor accident. Don’t need a witness. You can go.”
I turn & walk away. 7/n
I dreamt the cop walks with me. With each step, I kept turning around, surveying the scene, wondering if I should memorize the license plate. She keeps yelling. I feel sheepish. I stop looking and pull out my phone. We take a few steps. The cop looks up and his eyes go wide. 8/n
I dreamt I hear his breathing before I see him. He ran back to me. He stops in front of me winded. Pulls out his phone. People in the neighborhood watch and are gawking.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You need Biggs’ number.” He squeezes my shoulder.
I wake up.
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