I was at the river and there was a guy drowning. I jumped in and got to him, swam us to shore, pulled us up on the bank, and he was okay. I was happy. This was a good dream, I thought. Then I sat up and looked around. Behind me, on the other side of the river were the other two. They were dead. Maybe a foot of water covered them as they bounced against the river's edge, side by side. The water was clear so I could see them well. They were bloated looking and their skin shone under the water, a translucent blue-white. A man and a woman, both with long blonde hair, matted and flowing with the current. I could see their eyes, blue and vacant.
I sat there on the bank cursing myself for having failed them. Then I remembered the water when they had been in it. Wild and fast and deep. I knew I would have died too. But it didn't matter. I knew, so I should have done. Knowing sucks sometimes.
And as I was waking, I thought of that thing people love to say, "don't worry, it was only a dream". And I knew as I opened my eyes that those people lied. It was real. And they were dead.
And they say time fades memories, that all things pass. But they don't tell you that just when you think it's safe, it all comes back as clear as the day it happened. And that it wasn't just a dream.
But September... life was sweet. Counting the days.
Thanks, Gaugs. |
