Dream

Posted on February 9, 2004 in Dreams

I dreamed that I was in San Bernardino, living the life I might have had if I had not gone to college. I saw my mother riding by on a motorcycle as I was heading to meet her at an appointment. I called her on my cell phone and told her that she had missed the freeway exit and needed to turn back.

I owned a restaurant and I was out to save San Bernardino. I walked in my bistro and had a talk to the bookkeeper, noting that there was money missing from the till and that I was having an investigation done. Six months passed. I walked about the property pointing out things that I wanted taken out. The restaurant opened onto a big green vacant lot. Ruins and fallen trees that looked like fat sea cucumbers crossed the landscape. I told the bartender that I was going to keep the ruin — it was picturesque and could be lit up at night — and take out the trees. The city, I said, was taking forever to remove these victims of a long-ago storm. That was San Bernardino, I said, and I was going to change it.

I went out to go somewhere in my car, using my auto alarm control to find it. I walked around the block, desparate for it. Then I saw my truck parked in front of a strip mall. As I clicked on the button and approached it, it flickered in and out of existence, like the green flash of the sun at sunset, like a flame.