Lamont has a Bad Dream

“You dreamed what?

“That some ex-husband of mine came back, took me on an expensive vacation to some resort in Northern California, you know, Big Sur or Carmel, the kind of place that Edward Abbey described as particularly noxious. The kind with the ‘Esalen Hot Tubs’.”

“Whoa, was this an old school encounter weekend, Lamont?”

“Dude, I guess. It definitely rang of the 1970s, but in the 1970s, I was, you know, I was ME.”



“Do you remember being married to this guy?”

“That’s the thing. I do. And I remember it being awful. In my dream, there was a moment, he was asleep, and I was in one of those rooms — you know back then unfinished concrete wasn’t JUST for parking garages, right?”

“No idea, Lamont. In the 70s I was someone’s decrepit grandma or a sparrow or both. I think both. Maybe I was a budgie belonging to a decrepit grandma. Hard to say. It’s kind of a blur.”

“I keep forgetting. But anyway, I was afraid. I was afraid he would wake up. What was the backstory?”

“But in the 70s you were you, I mean the guy you are today.”

“Yeah. That’s the weird thing. I could NOT have been this guy’s wife in the 70s. I was just getting out of law school. I a job as a clerk for the DA. I had wide lapels. Ties with flowers. A big mustache. I danced the Latin Hustle.”

“You know what I think? One life-time got conflated with another in your subconscious. It happens to me all the time. Do you remember being married AT ALL?”

“Of course I remember lots of marriages, but I don’t remember that guy. Moody bastard. I was very uncomfortable around him. He kept wanting to ‘talk’ and you know I hate that, Dude.”

“Yeah, except when you’re talking.”

“Wise ass.”

“I think we’ve probably been many humans over the millennia, Lamont. It’s inevitable we’d forget some of the incarnations, don’t you think?”

“Sure. Absolutely. I mean how many lives have we had and lost?”

“I didn’t lose any, Lamont. I lived all of them.”

“Sometimes I love you, Dude.”


4 thoughts on “Lamont has a Bad Dream

  1. I don’t have any exes, at least not ones I married, and I never dream of them either. Perhaps I cause them nighmares, who knows.

    • Mine seem to remember me fondly. One of them (the one in the dream) occasionally writes me poetry… It’s too weird to contemplate. I like these one word prompts. 🙂

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