#107

I dreamed of a little girl.

She was blind.

Or was she deaf?

I can't remember.

All I know is that she was wet.

Soaking wet as she waded
through the odd tide of a river,
filled with overgrown kelp beneath.

She wasn't alone, though.

She was with a dog.

A big dog.

Grown, and golden.

Must've been a golden retriever.

Oh! But I don't know.

I've never owned one,
so to me,
all breeds are simply dogs.

Maybe I could tell a thing or two apart,
but that's mostly based on their height
and the size of their puppy eyes.

Oh! Back to the dream.

As both the girl and the dog
went against the tide,
I saw no reason for them to drown.

Yet the usual air bubbles,
looking beneath,
were everywhere.

It was my dream, remember?

And so they swam and swam,
swam and swam,
until finally they reached
the shore of a bank they deemed worthy.

Or was it the dog's choice?

I can't remember.

The bank was steep,
and here there were dead twigs,
specifically placed,
stretching over one another.

Magically,
these little stems
were just enough for the little girl's reach.

And so the two climbed.

It was the shortest climb, though.

So short
that it was incomparable
to the swim they had just swum.

And when they reached the top,
to the height of the road that awaited them,

they found an overturned car.

Souls, both familiar and not,
were scattered here and there.

And there were other cars too.

They were simply passing by.

A man with a mustache recognized the little girl.

The man knelt down
and told the most honest
and saddest story
to both the girl and her dog.

Both her parents were dead.

I can't remember if the girl cried or not.

But the man with the mustache continued.

He told the girl not to be sad.

That death is a natural thing.

It happens.

Then I woke up.

Half sad and half disappointed.

Is death truly just that?

Something ever so trivial
once it has happened?

Moving on is an arduous thing,

but hereafter,
must the pain move on too?

Is that it?

I can't believe
that I, who am mostly forgetful,
can remember a dream

so enchanting

and disappointing

at the same time.

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