I dream that I’m playing a real important soccer final, but because of Covid restriction we’re playing in my living room, the goalposts are children’s toys, and we didn’t even remove the dinner table. There’s no referee, only the honor system. We win, of course.
Tag: soccer
Fruddi The Sci-Fi Teacher
(I was feeling a bit sick yesterday.)
I dream over and over again that I’m telling Boss Lady over the phone that I can’t possibly go to work in the morning, I could be contagious, I have an upset stomach, and hear how sore my throat is! (I’m faking it).
(I suck it up and go to work in the morning.)
I dream that I’m sitting in my old classroom next to M. the runner. As usual I don’t have any notebooks or pens with me. I confess to M. that I haven’t been able to follow a math lesson in years, I cannot understand it and I’ve stopped trying.
A new teacher shows up: she has red hair and a red beard, she’s wearing glasses, a white blouse with colorful umbrella prints and a rainbow skirt. On her arm, a rainbow umbrella. I observe every detail so later I can describe her to my penpal.
Her name is Fruddi and she’s our new sci-fi teacher. There’s something unsettling about her.
She writes a poem on the blackboard in her very neat handwriting. I’m sitting front row resting my chin on my hands, looking bored. She demands why I’m not copying the poem down, I say what’s the point? I’ll google it at home. She rants and rave about today’s lazy youth, I tell her, deadpan,
I am smart and I am confident and you won’t judge me.
She looks at me pensively. She knew a boy once, she says, who was so lazy. He was so lazy he never found a job and stayed home with his momma. This makes me angry, I walk straight to her face and hiss,
Or maybe he was severely depressed.
Fruddi looks dumbstruck. Come with me, she says. She leads me to the school graveyard, old tombstones and overgrown greenery. It looks so pretty I wish I had a camera with me.
Fruddi leads me to her family chapel, where a mummy lays on the stone. This is my boy, she says, taking the body in her arms. I’m so scared and she’s distracted, so I run back to the classroom, but the other kids have left.
I track them to the gym. The boys are playing soccer with famous footballer Christian Vieri. The girls are sitting in a low pool, looking adorable in matching swimsuits and caps. I run to them and relay my scary mummy story. They all console me.
International Travel
I’m in Venice with my cousin and we come across Tessa Thompson. I recognize her immediately but I don’t want to look like a crazy fan, so I just yell from across the street, “You were incredibile in the last Westworld episode!!” She smiles and signals to get closer, then she rummages through her car trunk (a car in Venice, yeah, I know) and gives us both caps with the American flag and her autograph on post-its.
Somehow from Venice we arrive at my building, my estranged cousin S. is in the parking lot looking at stray cats, she remembers all the cats’ names even though she hasn’t been at my place since childhood. I go up to my apartment and my dad is on the couch watching soccer, Italy VS France. I tell him it’s a replay, there are too many people on those bleachers and we are supposed to be social distancing, remember? He’s disappointed.
I fly to visit my penpal C., and my sister is with me this time; we meet all her parents and grandparents, she somehow seems to have too many. It’s already late at night and we’re trying to make as little noise as we can, my sister heads the bathroom and I whisper to hurry up, because it’s already 4 and everybody needs to go. I sit next to C. and we hold hands and watch the stars; an hour passes and we realize my sister is still in the bathroom, we go check and she’s fallen asleep. I gently pick her up and carry her to the bed.
Invasion!
Aliens have invaded our world. We challenge them to a “water soccer” game and lose, the goal keeper fails at the last moment.
The aliens flood the planet. What’s left of humanity takes refuge on Easter Island, where we train to swim underwater so we can search for our most important pieces of art and architecture.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 