The kids and I were at some arena where there had been a concert or sports game.
I had lost my phone and wallet.
We were all looking around, and then my son came to me with a wallet. Not my wallet, so I just looked at him.
He said, “It’s dad’s.”
There was some kind of governmental paper in it, or passport, something very important, and $80 or so.
“Take it,” he said.
No, I couldn’t do that. I followed my son with my eyes as he returned it to his dad.
Yes, there they were, several rows down in the next section over. He looked about the same. They got up. She did too, but her hair was lighter. They started walking up the aisle. There was another man. Older. Her father?
I narrowed my eyes to get a good look. None of them caught my gaze.
Then the kids were gone, and I was still without a phone or wallet. I found my way out of the venue through a sports retail store on the ground floor.
The streets of this city were unfamiliar and it was dark.
What was I going to do?
I have had that question several time over the past year, and I have been able to figure a lot of things out with a deep breath and open mind.
I was so weary, though, in the dream. Utterly alone. I didn’t want to figure that one out.
I woke up. The kitty was there as usual patiently waiting to be fed. There was snow outside and warmth inside.
I got up and started the mindless march to the day: shower, coffee, clothes.