In this lurid dream I discovered myself trapped in a narrow mountain valley as two grizzly bears, one wearing a blue jacket, chased me through the meadow bottom and around a log cabin there. I could not find a way inside the cabin. Just as the bear in the blue jacket made a final charge, I woke with a lurch to my own bed. The silence of my room felt like a truck parked right on top of my chest. I felt barely an inch deep. I lay there, all alone, clenching and unclenching my fingers, panicked.
My wife put a great deal of stock in her dreams. She used to ask my oldest sister to interpret them. The dreams of falling without finding a bottom. The dreams of fish kissing her. The dreams of not hearing voices when people spoke. Connie always managed a bright and positive meaning. Something swell was about to happen.
I know that my own dreams are nonsense. But what does this mean that even my two cats have abandoned me through the last string of late nights?
--Mitchell Hegman
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