This morning I woke up from a dream in which I was going through a bunch of my dad's old memories in a closet/on a shelf, etc. One of these memories was a box of greeting cards that had the image of two white women with angry, justice-is-served faces, and a black man crying; the other image was of a boat sailing in the ocean, resembling some sort of people-freighter. The box, a sort of faded green color, was labeled with the phrase: "Some boys make bad mistakes." In the dream, I opened the box and inside was a short letter from my sister to my dad, which read:
"Dear Pop,
I'm sorry; I only realized what this was when I opened up the box. Maybe one day Lindsey can send me a birthday card.
Love,
Jessica"
It was then that I woke up.
I've no idea where all that came from, either, but damn it if it wasn't amusing enough to remember.
2 comments:
I don't believe that you actually read anything. Reading and dreaming happen in two different sides of the brain.
It's just so interesting, though, that I could remember what I 'thought' I had 'read'. Kind of weird.
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