Dream

Posted on September 18, 2004 in Dreams

I’ve gone back to junior high, into the body that I had as an early adolescent. My fellow classmates inhabit the same bodies and the same minds that they had back then. As I sit down in my science class, at a desk covered with a bas relief of tools and aluminum silver guns, they know that something is different. I turn to them, knowing what I do about the future that I know now as the past and begin to prophesy. Jerry Brown will become governor of California, I say. Ronald Reagan will be president. They laugh at me, but then I narrow my eyes. “The two towers will fall.” No, they cry. That is impossible. I go to the blackboard and draw a diagram, showing how the planes will crash, how the building will pancake. They still do not believe it. I point to some of them. “You will not be there to see this terrible thing.”

I wander off to gym class and talk to a blonde girl in a wheel chair. “You will become a movie star,” I say to her. She, alone of my classmates, believes me. We talk for a long time and cry together about the future.