The Flooded Bedroom

I had a dream last night, a repeat dream, about a house with a permanently flooded bedroom. The walls and floor and bed were all black. The floor sloped up, so that when you left the bedrrom, you walked uphill a little to dry floor. The house was square, with I think, four rooms. Outside, there was the house, and a gas station store next door. There was nothing for miles and life consisted of these two buildings. There were other people there, my friend Quincy, for one.

I woke up from the dream and tried to write it down, but I couldn’t. The paper seemed damp, and the pencil lead wouldn’t stick. It was weird. I’m aware that I can’t remember a lot of what I could when I was trying to write. And like I said, it seemed familiar, like a repeat dream.

It’s scheduled to rain forever, at least as far into the future as the weatherman can see. This morning I didn’t run, but walked a little with raincoat and umbrella. No swim.

Have a great weekend.

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