Friday, June 19, 2020

The train dream

In my dream we were on the phone, you telling me you were running late getting back from flight school and asking if I could bring a package into the house when I went over to feed the dogs, when I got home. I was on a train from somewhere north, DC, maybe. I must have been at a conference or the like, because I was wearing an ivory silk blouse and a black pencil skirt, my standard conference uniform, and I changed shoes as we talked, slipping into comfortable ballet flats for the journey home.

I went in the side door of your house, which was smallish but not cramped. Cozy, with some plank paneling inside maybe reclaimed wood? A farmhouse sink, but not worn out or anything. Simple. A long window at the sink with plants on the sill. I put my little flowerdy suitcase down and turned on the gas burner under the stainless steel kettle while I filled the dog bowls from the ceramic bin under the sink. It was twilight and the fairy lights came on outside, sparkling in the reflection of a ladle hanging from the hood at the stove. I thought it might rain as I went to get the mail.