Drop #78: Dream
July 30, 2012 2 Comments
He pulled parts of the dream out into the morning to keep him company as he shaved, showered, and prepared a simple breakfast:
The sky is mint green but he thinks nothing off it. He wades into the surf, dragging his left leg for an undisclosed reason. He notices her for the first time, but knows too, that he has come out to meet her. They make eye contact, both smiling in different ways that feel the same. He’s next to her now as pelicans fly low across the water in a broken V. They let him know they are in Florida, or Belize, and it feels good to be on holiday. A wave washes in and he helps her through it, his hand on her waist, which has some flesh to it, some curve, and the loveliest human warmth. They jump through another; it knocks them together, and they kiss: a lush, exquisite kiss full of joy and soft lighting, and all the things that make life exciting.
At table, the curvy swimmer’s tan, her tongue still with him, feeling so nice, he wondered whether he should tell his wife, worrying about what she might think.
But isn’t that silly? he thought then. It was only a dream, and besides, what is there to hide? Isn’t affection something innocuous and lovely, after all? Outside of sex, that is, or any further deep meaning. Just a touch on the cheek, a light caress, an embrace or a kiss. It’s so simple, so natural. Doesn’t have to move on to anything else, but why lose that sense of adventure and connection we feel so often in our teens ands twenties? Wouldn’t it be nice if there were more of that around? And isn’t it a little sad then, that we need to view affection with such suspicion, that when it happens outside of husband and wife, or steady romantic relationships, it’s mistrusted and uncomfortable? Anyway, he confirmed, glancing nervously at his wife, there’s nothing to hide. Nothing at all.
‘I kissed a girl I’ve never seen before in a dream last night,’ he blurted clumsily.
‘Really? That’s so funny!’ she said. ‘I remember my dream from last night too: I was tied up to a giant asparagus while a unicorn with a meter long schlong, a pair of Siamese twins joined at the head, and an old wizard with festering sores for eyes shagged the shit out of me, mercilessly pounding every hole while a Jamaican Charlie Sheen on a legendary bender clamped my nipples and shoved endless spoonfulls of coke up my nose.
By E.M. Vireo