She asked me to meet her at church after work. Her voice was alive and urgent over the phone. She spoke deliberately as if each syllable held a vital importance.

As she spoke I knew she had already died but what she needed to tell me was important. She needed my help planning something so I wrote down the address for the church and told her I would meet her in the library.

I passed the time working on projects. Normal day to day projects. Well mostly normal. A Fed Ex truck ran into a lady who had been texting on her cell phone and had pulled out in front of him. They had a screaming match which ended with an ice cream truck giving them both free ice cream cones.

I did end up at the church library where a couple kids were playing with a train set. One of the children was my daughter when she was 3 and the other was a little boy around 11. The little girl was laughing at the train noises the boy made.

The only other person in the library was the librarian. She was sitting behind her desk with her feet propped up on the counter with a book open. She was deep in thought when I brought a book up to the check out.

She smiled and asked if I liked C.S. Lewis. I then noticed she was reading the same book I held in my hand. We talked about how amazingly insightful he was.  How his words had a way of working their way into our souls.

She told me she was going through a divorce. That she felt like every relationship that ended felt like a divorce. Every end felt like death and that she wasn’t sure if she was searching for life anymore or comfort in death.

I related.

We sat and talked as we listened to the children play. I told her I thought that once we found the comfort in death that we could maybe find the peace inside living. We laughed for some reason. We laughed hard because I think we both knew it was better than crying.

She smiled and took my hand and told me she was glad to meet me. I told her I needed her kindness and I was glad to find someone who understood me. I told her she was like an angel in that moment.

I asked her if she liked coffee and she stood up and hugged me and told me she had a better idea.

She knew a friend who had a farm that needed looking after.

She asked me to join her….



*This dream isn’t as abstract or broken as most of my dreams.  It was a clear plotted outline of several distinct situations I feel I am experiencing.  I just find it fascinating how the brain processes our thoughts.  How our dreams put our real lives together like puzzle pieces.



2 thoughts on “THE LIBRARIAN

  1. I’ve missed your dreams, and am constantly bemused by the way in which the brain ‘defrags’ and tries to make sense of our lives as we sleep.

    Still wondering why I dreamed I was a dragon the other night, but it was pretty cool.


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