Dreaming of the Dead

Those late-morning-sleep-in dreams seem to be the most disturbing kind. I dreamt of the dead today, at one point in the dream my grandfather spoke to me at length about his tastes in pickles. It may have been the longest sustained discussion I ever had with that taciturn fellow. Meaningless, yet somehow comforting.

That dream morphed into a house-party, a party with a wide group of friends, people in varying degrees of nakedness- have you ever noticed that in sex dreams you are usually weightless?- but that part of the dream was not significant, (thank goodness my grandfather had disappeared by then!) It was the ending, if a dream can ever really have a proper end, that really got to me.

My long-departed friend Debbie was there, in a separate room, we began speaking, I knew that she was dead, but it was still nice to talk with her, she said she was doing well and she somewhat ominously stated that she would be back to see us all on the "thirtieth."

I had to leave her, but I leaned over her and began kissing her gently on the forehead and cheek. I felt that if I kissed her on the mouth, which I wanted to do, I would have had to leave that land of dreams which we shared and join her, forever, in the land of the dead.