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Authors: Christopher Canniff
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or staring back at me from a corner bar.
This is one of those moments when I believe I see someone I have thought about but have not seen in over a month. She is across the street, contemplating whether to purchase a sweatshirt, a sudadera . Something to keep warm in.
I think for a moment that perhaps I am mistaken, that this woman is Karen, until I look again.
I never expected to see her here. She never answered my letters asking her to come.
She looks the same, her hair drooping from her shoulders in flaxen, rolling waves, her body thin, and well-defined by the folds of her dress. Her face is refined with feline featuresâespecially her eyes...those deep green, penetrating feline eyes...She has returned to allow me the opportunity to save Annabelle, before I have the chance to return to where I assumed they were.
Yelena! I shout. She looks around, and doesnât see me. I walk toward her, smiling, ecstatic.
I know that this exact scene will melt into my dreams. I know it may become lucid because I am thinking about having this dream later. We have the power to create a lucid dream by thinking dream thoughts during the day. By thinking I can fly to her, or reach out to her with an enormous hand, or contact her through mind-thought, I can later dream this exact scene and know I am dreamingâthereby having control over it. It will become a waking dream.
She is cold, she says as I approach her. She did not expect to be cold here. She puts the sweater on over her dress. It is nearly nighttime, I say. I see the moon, she says, itâs larger than other moons Iâve seen. And redder. Look, itâs blood red. Itâs a hook moon. And itâs sinking into the horizon. Iâve never seen that, either.
I notice, for the first time, that she is cradling a small baby in her arms, a baby with the most beautiful face Iâve ever seen. This is Annabelle , she says. The babyâs eyes are closed.
This is the first time Iâve seen you in over a month, I say. And you havenât written any letters lately.
Of course, you know where weâve been , Yelena says. You ran away from us, not the other way around. You see me here, in your new home, and think maybe that you never left. A piece of your home, a part of your past has come back for you. How does that make you feel? Are you distraught by our presence? Are you upset, or pleased? I canât tell by your expression. It could be either. I can see in your face that you are tired. You havenât been sleeping. Wasnât it you who told me how the mind cannot do well without dreams? Have you been dreaming, or have you been forsaking your dreams as you said you would?
Oh, you are preposterous with your dreams, you know you are. There is so much to say ⦠Iâm only here for a short time ⦠how to begin ⦠clichéd questions always end in clichéd answers ⦠Have you learned any Spanish since youâve been gone? Have you been to the mountains, to the rainforest? You have? To the mountains, but not the rainforest. I see. We can go to the rainforest together. I know of a place where you get a guide to take you through ⦠Iâve heard about it before from other people who have been there ... we can see termite nests in the trees, swing from vine roots high above the forest floor ⦠we can trek by the trails and eat fish straight from the Amazon ⦠we can kayak and white water raft ⦠youâve thought about this too, have you? You have seen this in your dreams? Youâre unforgivable, you know, leaving without even asking us to come with you. How could you not even ask? You and your silly dreams. You have an established career, your own practice, and who are your patients visiting now? Look at you. Youâre dishevelled; not disgustingly so, but almost. Youâve turned into Gauguin in Tahiti, or into Van Gogh as a preacher, but without their gifts. Are you malnourished? You canât be eating
This is one of those moments when I believe I see someone I have thought about but have not seen in over a month. She is across the street, contemplating whether to purchase a sweatshirt, a sudadera . Something to keep warm in.
I think for a moment that perhaps I am mistaken, that this woman is Karen, until I look again.
I never expected to see her here. She never answered my letters asking her to come.
She looks the same, her hair drooping from her shoulders in flaxen, rolling waves, her body thin, and well-defined by the folds of her dress. Her face is refined with feline featuresâespecially her eyes...those deep green, penetrating feline eyes...She has returned to allow me the opportunity to save Annabelle, before I have the chance to return to where I assumed they were.
Yelena! I shout. She looks around, and doesnât see me. I walk toward her, smiling, ecstatic.
I know that this exact scene will melt into my dreams. I know it may become lucid because I am thinking about having this dream later. We have the power to create a lucid dream by thinking dream thoughts during the day. By thinking I can fly to her, or reach out to her with an enormous hand, or contact her through mind-thought, I can later dream this exact scene and know I am dreamingâthereby having control over it. It will become a waking dream.
She is cold, she says as I approach her. She did not expect to be cold here. She puts the sweater on over her dress. It is nearly nighttime, I say. I see the moon, she says, itâs larger than other moons Iâve seen. And redder. Look, itâs blood red. Itâs a hook moon. And itâs sinking into the horizon. Iâve never seen that, either.
I notice, for the first time, that she is cradling a small baby in her arms, a baby with the most beautiful face Iâve ever seen. This is Annabelle , she says. The babyâs eyes are closed.
This is the first time Iâve seen you in over a month, I say. And you havenât written any letters lately.
Of course, you know where weâve been , Yelena says. You ran away from us, not the other way around. You see me here, in your new home, and think maybe that you never left. A piece of your home, a part of your past has come back for you. How does that make you feel? Are you distraught by our presence? Are you upset, or pleased? I canât tell by your expression. It could be either. I can see in your face that you are tired. You havenât been sleeping. Wasnât it you who told me how the mind cannot do well without dreams? Have you been dreaming, or have you been forsaking your dreams as you said you would?
Oh, you are preposterous with your dreams, you know you are. There is so much to say ⦠Iâm only here for a short time ⦠how to begin ⦠clichéd questions always end in clichéd answers ⦠Have you learned any Spanish since youâve been gone? Have you been to the mountains, to the rainforest? You have? To the mountains, but not the rainforest. I see. We can go to the rainforest together. I know of a place where you get a guide to take you through ⦠Iâve heard about it before from other people who have been there ... we can see termite nests in the trees, swing from vine roots high above the forest floor ⦠we can trek by the trails and eat fish straight from the Amazon ⦠we can kayak and white water raft ⦠youâve thought about this too, have you? You have seen this in your dreams? Youâre unforgivable, you know, leaving without even asking us to come with you. How could you not even ask? You and your silly dreams. You have an established career, your own practice, and who are your patients visiting now? Look at you. Youâre dishevelled; not disgustingly so, but almost. Youâve turned into Gauguin in Tahiti, or into Van Gogh as a preacher, but without their gifts. Are you malnourished? You canât be eating
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