Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Eighty
In the dream, I’m seated at a table in a room, and very important people are asking me questions about my project. Why this dream now, after I’ve already gotten the “yes”?
Cold.
It looks and feels like fall: thin air and whispy fog. The colors are wet and vibrant.
They haven’t refreshed the donuts yet, so I settle on some coffee cake.
Filling up your coffee and getting a little derailed by a ten-minute conversation.
I forgot the basketballs.
The five of us doing a little bit of work this morning. Another new face. Another reason to be excited.
Don’t think about Monday.
Surprised by its spaciousness and all the light.
Could I really wear a dead woman’s clothes?
I better not be catching his cold.