Confirmed, Twice

I dream that I’m working at the new store, the one above our regular store that I dreamed about last week. I’ve always wondered, when something seems familiar, is it because I’ve legit dreamed about if before or is it just my mind playing tricks? Well, now I know! This time I’m wearing a name tag on my chest that says “I’m new, please be gentle with me.” Indeed I’m so slow that my cousin kicks me out.

The next day I don’t want to go to work, I’m not even sure if they actually hired me back or if this is all just a dream. I go out with friends instead, we stop to buy pizza but the guy behind the counter seems very unhygienic, I slip away without my friends noticing. I’m hungry now and it’s night already, I stop at a restaurant that is just a series of tables under the stars. I’m very suspicious about hygienic standards, I order a simple cheese pizza (the least dangerous, I assume), it takes them ages to bring it to the table.

(Photo by zero take on Unsplash)

The next morning I’m walking home after skipping work once again, I hear someone calling me, I look up and see my neighbor C. waving at me from the attic window. I go up to her and she’s sitting at a table eating, she starts telling me all about some gossip she heard (typical!) when a goose flies in from the window, a big brown goose, rather angry. It starts honking at C.’s ear, doesn’t calm down until it’s offered some food.

(Photo by Biel Morro on Unsplash)

I close all the doors and windows in case the goose wants to come back, then go down the stairs. I’m in a beautiful old mansion that belongs to my grandfather. It used to be in ruins when I was a kid, now my uncle has renovated and it’s so beautiful it looks more like a museum. I know once grandgfather dies my uncle will kick us out and I wish I could show all of this to my penpal in time, but she’s visited me just a few days ago (I DO dream about old dreams!) and it’s gonna be a while before she comes back. Maybe I’ll give her a virtual tour, once new technologies allow it.

I look at the portraits on the walls and imagine what I would say to 18th century people to explain TV screens.

It’s like a big mirror, but instead of yourself you see other people and stories. It’s connected by a series of wires that transfer electricity, it’s the stuff lighting bolts are made of.

My uncle arrives and catches me looking at his art collection. Just like grandfather, this guy isn’t one of my IRL uncles, he’s a short, balding man with glasses, and expensive suit and a nervous expression. He notices I’m crying because I’m so moved by all these beautiful neoclassical statues, he says he cries all the time too, maybe he can get along with my siblings and I after all.

We organize a sack race so we can bond, I’m a teen girl, I have a teen brother and a toddler sister, suspiciously similar to A Series of Unfortunate Events characters. The toddler wins the race.

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