I’m sick. Of course this happens right before holiday vacation. Last night I got a full night of sleep but I was quite busy with dreams.
This time I was running through an abandoned Italianate mansion, recently abandoned by its aristocratic owners. There’d been some sort of apocalypse, and wild dogs and savage men were running loose. In the dream I was a young girl, perhaps Anne Frank, and my parents were the aristocratic owners, dead or gone. I raced through ornate dressing rooms and rococo ballrooms. Sometime I’d open a door and see a pile of viscera in the room, which meant the scavengers had been there, or were close. With seconds to spare I found a conservatory, a small music room for the lady of the manor. I forced myself into a small closet and was trying to pull the door closed behind me when it was shut hard.
This is when I woke up, wondering whether I was being helped or trapped. It was pitch dark and raining—the perfect weather for sleeping. I got another start when the alarm went off, a cruel joke on a dark morning. Thus I started my day with heavy sickness and fatigue.
But! I am almost on vacation, which is a happy thing indeed. And I lifted Baby Harbat out of her crib this morning and got a huge hug, which made everything worth it.
I may be making periodic posts during vacation time, so watch this space for more intriguing blogging. And if you are “Rippers 1.0” from Singapore, stop data trawling on my blog! Happy Holidays!
Writer, architect, father, husband.