Old Classics and Superheroes

As usual I dream that it’s the last day of school and I’m going to skip my finals because I already got my degree, I just want to go home and watch the latest Supergirl episode.

I’m walking home and now I’m Spiderman, I legit look like Tom Holland under the mask. I can climb walls, I’m not shooting webs because actually I can flap my arms and fly. I meet up with Black Widow and we go investigating in a phone store; it’s a rival store and my old boss sees me in there (she doesn’t look like my actual phone store boss lady, more like a mix of all the employers I’ve had in my life). I want to tell her I didn’t betray the store, I’m here on a secret mission, but she looks the other way and pointedly ignores me.

At Home Consuming Media And This Is The Result

I sent a picture of Gran to Vanity Fair thinking it wouldn’t be noticed, but there it is in the latest issue on a full page, a beautiful profile portrait against a deep indigo background, head looking up, shiny waves of hair falling on her forehead. The photo was taken by my sister, and I duly sent her name and address along with it. Now her info is all over the magazine page and she’s mad at me for the invasion of privacy, but also kind of flattered.

Meanwhile I’m bored and I decide to rewatch Person Of Interest. Only I’ve traveled back in time and I’m the one creating the show: I cast Harold Finch but I don’t want to cast John Reese, he’s neither a good enough actor nor a compelling role, I explain the producer. I’ll just kill him off in the pilot episode, and yet… I’ve already watched the show so I know the character will live on. The series is now set in the Marvel Cinematic Universe but it’s aimed at an older public. I write Spider-Man in one scene.

Unsettling Grandmother

I’m with my cousin in the building’s parking lot, we are about to go inside the basement door when a black cat approaches us, he looks very chill and not afraid at all. My cousin asks if it’s my cat, I say it’s not, because my cat’s eyes are green and this one’s are yellow.

We go inside and the building has now turned into a tall maze with different stores and events on every floor. This is a recurring dream of mine, and I tell my cousin I can never find my way out when the it changes like this.

There is a giant pharmacy on the first floor, then a stock exchange. My dad makes his way through the various businessmen, he looks like Ricky Moranis did in the 90s. He stars yelling,

I want money! I want money! I WANT MONEY!

and he’s so convincing that one of the businessmen cedes him the right to some old songs. We go through them to figure out how much they’re worth. They come mostly from pulpy old movies, but there’s also a Christmas album from the cast of the cartoon “Sing”.


They are filming a Spiderman VS Thor movie in my neighborhood, but it’s very low budget. I’m watching Spiderman jump on top of my gate, and I can clearly see he used a trampoline badly hidden under a blanket.

I follow the actors as they run down the streets I’m so familiar with. We arrive at my late Grandma G.’s house: she and my dad are sunbathing in the yard. My brother approaches her and asks,

What is your true form?

She open her eyes and I shiver because I’m sure she’s about to unleash some ancient, unspeakable Eldritch horror on us. But my brother dips his hands in water and gently tickles and massages her bare feet. My grandma laughs and refuses to answer. Instead she tells us to keep our soulmates close.

My brother says he met his soulmate in a videogame. Grandma says out loud the name of mine, but I can’t remember it anymore.