Dreamscape #0rang3

I was at an elementary school, it was dark, but an early evening winter dark, around 5 or so. A bunch of little kids were leaving for the night. I was standing outside of one of the classroom doors that a pack 7-year olds were exiting. Their teacher followed the last one out and stood in the doorway, dressed in white pajama bottoms with muted stripes, a t-shirt, barefoot, with her hair pulled back. It was Julie Haggerty, the lead in the “Airplane!” movie.
The last child out, a small toe-headed boy with brown corduroy pants stopped right outside the door, turned to her, and held up one small index finger, skin so white and young as to be translucent.
“Why does my finger hurt, Ms. Haggerty?”
She gently took his hand and glanced at the finger. After a second, she let go of his hand, patted him lightly on the head and said, “Don’t worry. It’s probably just a poltergeist.”
She then turned, leaving the child looking horrified, and calmly walked back into the room, the door smoothly closing on well-maintained hydraulics. I noticed that the bottoms of her feet were clean and pure.
After that demonstration of levelheaded, wickedly inventive child torment, I feel head over heels in love with her…
And THAT is when I woke up from a powerful, all-consuming afternoon nap. And I still felt in love with her, a crush of epic proportions carried over from the dream and into the world, leaving me with a sudden sense of loss that took about 3 hours to fully dissipate.

3-19-2010

HOMEWORK ESSAY: Four People I Would Invite to Dinner

Ghandi, Jesus, Mohammed, and you. But I’d tell the other three that we were meeting in the Middle East at a hookah bar. It’d be a trick for sure, but hopefully they’d take a moment whilst in the area to tell everyone to chill the fuck out. Then you’d show up at mine, look around, and say “Hey, where’s Jesus?” and I’d say something like, “Look, with our schedules being what they are these days we just don’t get a lot of quality time anymore. We’re always bouncing all over the place like frogs on a hotplate. You’re always volunteering at the children’s burn unit, I’m tied up freeing puppycats and kittydogs from bear traps all day. So I thought I’d just have you over, light a coupla candles, open a bottle of wine, put something mellow on the stereo, and just take some time to get reacquainted. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to leisurely tell you how beautiful you are.”
Then the other three would show up all pissed off and bust up my house.
But not before I kissed you and we conquered a little corner of the universe that we could call our own.

Lost in Translation

The big question:
What does Bill Murray whisper to Scarlett Johannson at the end?
Only they know for sure...
My guess, what I would have said after all that had happened:
“No one is flawless, but you are as close to flawless as I have seen. Never settle for less because you deserve it all. Do you hear me?”
And she nods her head, and everything ends and is butted smack-dab up against a new beginning.