Remembered fragment of a pre-dawn dream:
My wife and I are on a sidewalk with our grandson J, age three. We're watching one of those New Orleans-style funeral processions -- a street parade led by a brass band playing dixieland jazz, followed by throngs of dancing adults and children. J wants to be part of the parade.
A young man we vaguely recognize joins us, saying "I need to take J home. He's real sick and his mother wants him."
As they drive away, I tell my wife we need to make sure J gets home all right.
I'm standing on a loading platform where I've been waiting awhile. A tall young man comes out of the warehouse. He's about 20, with long dark hair, wearing a windbreaker and jeans. I ask him if he's J and he replies that he is. As I hug him, I tell him I can't believe he's such a big boy now.
I wake up to gray dawn, needing to pee.
My wife and I are on a sidewalk with our grandson J, age three. We're watching one of those New Orleans-style funeral processions -- a street parade led by a brass band playing dixieland jazz, followed by throngs of dancing adults and children. J wants to be part of the parade.
A young man we vaguely recognize joins us, saying "I need to take J home. He's real sick and his mother wants him."
As they drive away, I tell my wife we need to make sure J gets home all right.
I'm standing on a loading platform where I've been waiting awhile. A tall young man comes out of the warehouse. He's about 20, with long dark hair, wearing a windbreaker and jeans. I ask him if he's J and he replies that he is. As I hug him, I tell him I can't believe he's such a big boy now.
I wake up to gray dawn, needing to pee.
No comments:
Post a Comment