Tag: schoolmates: plain S.

Familiar Faces

Posted on by Decade Dream Journal

I dream that I’m back in high school, my dad is also there teaching and everyone hates him. My old classmate S. is mad at me because she thinks I skipped the line to the principal’s office (I didn’t). Inside I ask for s signed note excusing me for being late during all next week, the principal is kind of bemused about it. While I’m there I steal my dad’s report and later show it to him, he’s very depressed about his low rates so I tell him the story of a young girl named Harry Potter who had round glasses, brown hair and really big boobs.

The next day everybody looks really happy, it takes me a moment to realize it’s the last day of school and I feel really dumb, why did I ask for that principal’s note? All the students around me looks like children and I feel ancient. I meet with S. again, although I don’t recognize her at all. We go home under my umbrella, I tell her about my college experience and how I finally found my true calling: photography. I don’t know where we’re going, I simply follow her and we end up on the beach. I’m happy to take a few pictures before a hasty retreat since it’s way too hot, I tell S. to call me back in the fall when temps are more human.

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Walk and Show and a lil Panic

Posted on by Decade Dream Journal

There is a toddler −maybe my little sister?− that keeps jumping in my arms from great heights, first from a tree, then from the stairs of a big marble statue. It’s so dangerous and I’m afraid I’m not gonna catch her next time.

My cousin and I are going to see a StarKid show in town, and it’s already my second time because I love it so much, even though I feel incredibly guilty about the crowd gathering in the theater. Not many people are paying attention though, I’m literally the only one cheering and clapping at the stage. A girl is listening to music too loudly and I can’t remember how to say to lower the volume in Japanese; eventually my cousin drags her away and I go sit in the first row. At the end of the show Lauren Lopez comes down the stage and kisses me on the cheek, “Thank you, Lauren” I say, breathless.

I tell my cousin I don’t need a ride home and I’ll just walk, but of course I get lost. I meet an old schoolmate, S., and ask her the way. She points to a tiny alley going down two rows of old stone houses, and I immediately know there are gonna be dogs behind the gates: since I’m terrified of dogs barking at me up close, I go looking for another way. I end up looking at a river banks, the stone buildings and the people playing on the sand are bathed in afternoon sunlight. Again, I feel bad about the crowd, but it’s all so beautiful I decide to take a picture and brag about it on social media.

I look in my pocket and I find a slim white watch. It’s not mine. In the other pocket there is a phone, old and broken and again, not mine. I run back hoping I just forgot my actual phone at the theater, but I’m panicking so badly that I wake up.

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