Dream of: 20 November 1982 "Helium-Filled Balloon"

I was living in a Spanish-speaking town which seemed like San Juan, Puerto Rico. I was walking through the streets, trying to think of something to do. I had a small apartment and was exploring an area four or five blocks from where I lived.

As I walked around I came to a corner where a man was selling dresses which looked like Mexican dresses often sold on the streets of Mexico. Two women (each about 25 years old) were standing here; each had on one of the dresses. I was unsure if the women were simply trying on the dresses, or whether they were wearing their own dresses. I glanced at the women, I didn't find them attractive and I walked on.

I had walked about four or five blocks from my apartment and had reached a small grocery store. I thought a movie theater was nearby; I might want to go there. However, I thought all the movies were X-rated. For a moment I thought I might want to go to an X-rated movie, but then decided I didn't want to.

I headed back toward my place taking a different route than I normally took. I was happily surprised to find the route shorter than the way I usually went. It began to darken and since I was a bit apprehensive about being on the dark street, I hurried.

I was carrying a rather large, helium-filled, pink balloon. As I passed through a gas station lot which had a large roof over it, my balloon slipped from my hand and I watched it rise. Several other people, including an attendant pumping gas, also watched the balloon rise toward the roof, about 50 meters high. Before the balloon reached the roof, it stopped, began descending again and came all the way back to me. I grabbed it, held it in my arms and continued on along the street.

I began thinking about how Louise had separated from me and had said she didn't want to see me any more. I knew she lived nearby; I contemplated writing her some letters and either leaving them on her car or slipping them under the door of her apartment. I thought about how I had recently told her that the only time I ever wrote to her was when she wasn't speaking to me. I was still not fully sure whether I should write to her this time.

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