My Dream Car

This morning I was driving home in Ingrid’s car. My mind was still moving a little slowly – I was under-caffeinated. The next stoplight turned red. I flinched slightly as I released the gas pedal and eased my foot down onto the brake. I knew that the brakes were bad and was hoping that I wouldn’t careen into the intersection like I had been doing recently. But I came to a stop pretty quickly. The brakes weren’t bad, and I had complete control of the vehicle. Furthermore, I had not, I realized, been losing control of any cars recently. It dawned on me that that had been happening in dreams. I’d been driving around for weeks in my dreams in a car with bad dream-brakes.

One of the pitfalls of not really remembering my dreams is that I can’t digest them afterwards. They’re floating around in my head, unlabeled and not yet picked apart.

One morning a few years ago, I hadn’t had my morning tea and I was thinking about walking to work. I considered the route I usually followed and some of the small variations I could take. I thought about that thing I sometimes did along the way – where I’d jump forward, then as I reached my apex and started descending, I’d pull back against gravity and skim over the sidewalk for a few extra yards. Wait a minute, I thought, I can’t fly. Then I remembered that I’d been getting around in my dreams using those gravity-resistant jumps. Since I caught myself, I haven’t been able to fly in my dreams.

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