Anti-dream...or is it?

With the encouragement of a friend I fell asleep listening to Thomas Newton. The soundtrack quietly warped and woofed through the developing fabric of my dreaming.

It was dark outside on a warm summer night as I approached the small bungalow. She was waiting outside in a long cotton gown. She seemed to be having fun, taking care somehow.

When I saw her and walked up she turned and smiled.

"What are you going?"

She crinkled her little nose and said "I'm just taking care of the last."

"Okay," I said and went inside past the screen and regular door.

I could hear Newton's Mauve Antartica in the background, twinkling, dancing, a little sweep here. Beautiful. Like delicate cat paws on new carpet.

But the room was empty. I turned on the air conditioner but it made no sound. Just the music.

I lay down on simple soft bedding. The dark yellow glow of the lighting warmed the room. I felt at peace.

She did not come into the room. The dream was too short. But she didn't need to. I knew in her time she would, and lay down next to me. I would smell her hair, and enjoy the line of her jaw in the light, and she would stretch out and just want to be held.

And I felt happy. A room with nothing but a bed. A woman to trust. Crickets outside, and a winsome soundtrack.

Ah...if life were only like this.

But it can be, in a dream..or if we choose it...sometimes.