Dream of:11 January 2002 "Red Flower"
I was looking out the front window of the Gay Street House at the cars parked on Gay Street. The cars were quite handsome; they all looked like models from the 1950s. I was waiting for Carolina to return; she had gone to the pool with Dale and some other people. I wondered if Dale were interested in Carolina; he might even want to have a threesome. He was probably too proper for such an escapade, and I certainly wouldn't suggest it.
I was beginning to worry a bit; it was almost 1 p.m. and Carolina was supposed to have returned by 12. I tried to call her on her cell phone. At the same time I began washing my hair, which was already wet; I added shampoo and began working up a lather. Carolina finally answered her phone; but I was having problems with my phone and I could barely hear her. I picked up another phone, but I had the same problem. I seemed to hear someone else on the line; I wondered if Alma (a friend of Carolina's) was with Carolina and I was hearing her voice. I simply wanted to tell Carolina to come home. But suddenly – loud and clear – my mother's voice came on the phone. From the sound of her voice, I envisioned her as being about 40 years old. Apparently my mother had called me and she had been able to break through the connection I had with Carolina. I wanted my mother to come and visit me, but before I could tell her, I heard someone at the front door. When I walked over to the door and opened it, a black-haired Hispanic woman (about 30 years old) was standing in front of me; she was holding a potted plant about a meter and a half tall with a red flower on it. I stepped out onto the porch and asked the woman for whom she had brought the plant, but she didn't respond. Then, realizing that she probably spoke Spanish and that she hadn't understood my question, I asked, "Para quien es?"
She answered in English, telling me the plant was for somebody named "Cliff." I thought she must be talking about Clint Fowler (whose name I mistakenly remembered as " Cliff"). I told her that no one named Cliff lived there, and that she should take the plant away. She turned and walked off.
I walked back inside and began looking for my phone. To my surprise, a short woman (probably in her mid 20s) was sitting on the couch and holding the phone. When I asked her who she was, she replied, "I'm Leena, the software person."
I needed a moment to remember who this woman was. Finally I recalled she worked there on the computer during the week. She wasn't terribly attractive, but she seemed to have potential. She reminded me a bit of Donna. Since today was Sunday, I hadn't expected to see anyone else there in the House. I asked, "What in the hell are you doing here today interrupting my telephone calls?"
She stood and walked toward the next room.
Dream Journal Home Page
Copyright 2012 by firstname.lastname@example.org