Monday, November 16, 2009

Fog


My brother has been working much too hard. As he speaks, he sways from side to side, like an elephant or a bridge. All at once, his face turns gray. But his eyes are as bright as ever. My mother, young again, brings supper to the table. We sit down. The gray departs from my brother’s face. I can see dry hills through our old kitchen window.

Added yesterday to the Annandale Dream Gazette.


Update:
In the Forum: Howie and the Wolfman with traffic and the weather.

2 comments:

Elisabeth said...

I love the way that dreams bring the past back to us as of it were today.

How lovely for you in this dream to see your mother young again and to watch the gray depart your brother's face. At least I imagine it was lovely.

William Michaelian said...

This dream was so short. And the words “elephant” and “bridge” were part of it. The gray was disturbing at first. Upon waking, I was left with more of a feeling of longing, than of reunion.

Years ago at the time our father died, something went awry in my brother’s lab, over 2,000 miles away. A coincidence, of course.

Yes. Of course.