Dream of: 21 May 2002 (2) "Broken Plate

In a house which resembled the House in Patriot, I was lying on a bed in the living room, with a cover pulled over me. Under the cover I was wearing a tee-shirt, but was naked from the waist down. A pile of books was lumped next to me on the bed; a couple of Playboy magazines were mixed in with books.

I thought I heard someone coming – I was expecting Carolina at any time. I didn't want her to see the Playboys, but it didn't make that much difference if she saw them. She came to the door and walked in. She sat in a chair off to my left. She was about 30 years old – a little thinner than usual. She told me she had found a job. I immediately became angry; I jumped out of the bed and asked her how long she intended to work. She said she would probably work for three years. I flew into a rage. I reminded her that she had promised me not to take a job because we had agreed to sell our house and travel. I picked up a wicker chair and threw it toward the kitchen; the chair smashed against the wall over the sink, but it didn't appear to break. I walked into the kitchen, picked up a white dish and slammed it on the floor. A two-inch piece broke off the dish.

Carolina walked over to a phone on the wall, picked it up and dialed several numbers. I thought she was calling the police; but if she were calling the police, she would have dialed 911, and it looked as if she had dialed more than three numbers. I told her to hang up the phone before anyone came on; but she continued hanging on until I could hear a woman's voice on the other end. Carolina began telling the woman what had just happened. I shouted out that I had broken no law; I could break my own property if I wanted. However – I reflected – Carolina also had an interest in the property. Maybe, therefore, I had broken a law. What would the charges be – that I had broken a plate? If the police came, I simply wouldn't open the door; of course I probably couldn't prevent Carolina from letting them in.

Carolina hung up. I was still unsure whether she had actually called the police. I walked over to her and said that if she let the police in the house, I would never reconcile with her. I raised my hand and said, "I swear to God I will not reconcile."

I would have to stick by what I was saying – I had sworn to God. I began bracing myself for the possibility of leaving Carolina forever.

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