Everything Will Be Alright

I was experiencing this dream in first person, as well as an observer looking on. It played like a movie on-screen but, starring me.

It was the present but my surroundings were that of my past. I walked home on a muggy summer night from my job. I didn’t know what my job was in my dream but, I was physically exhausted as if I had done manual labor for most of the day. My surroundings seemed to resemble West Philadelphia where I lived for a couple of years. The mood was forlorn and solemn. I walked up the steps to my dimly lit porch. It was a multi-family house. I entered into the narrow corridor and was greeted by someone who might have been a cook or a maid that I shared my quarters with. I couldn’t tell if I was her superior or equal.

I started to undress in a very tiny bathroom when the cook/maid knocked on the door and said there was someone who had arrived earlier today and had been waiting all night to see me. I asked who it was and she said, “You’ll see.” I was confused and agitated by this late night surprise. I cautiously peered out of my tiny bathroom, then walked out of the “apartment” into the hallway. I looked up at the landing to find a male dressed in a suit with dark hair and a mustache. At first I had no idea who he was. Then I realized he was an old boss of mine who I hadn’t seen in almost a decade. He looked at me and said, “Do you recognize me?” I said yes of course…

I don’t know why or how, but I knew in my dream he was in love with me. And I wondered, “Why did he come all this way in secret?” We changed into more casual clothes. It was daylight out all of a sudden. We headed towards another similar house that looked like a campus frat house. It appeared desolate but once “Boss” rang the doorbell and knocked twice, a secret doorway opened up. We walked up the stairs into a roaring party. I looked at “Boss” and he, as well as all the scenery, changed into a more modern, jovial and familiar pace.

My brother was suddenly with me. A male, someone generic looking, welcomed us and offered us shots. I declined and went to explore the rest of the party with my brother. We went up another set of stairs and there was a lot of commotion. We found a group of people hovering over a girl who was choking. I ordered everyone to step aside so my brother could take a look as an EMT. He gave the girl the Heimlich maneuver and she stared spitting up stones. I was confused and disgusted so I left my brother to tend to her while I continued up another set of stairs.

I reached the top and walked into a large bedroom that I thought was empty. I walked in and saw clothes and shoes and suitcases lying around, as if someone was packing in a rush for a very long trip. A golden retriever suddenly trotted in and I was delighted to see him. I be t down to pet him, ruffled his ears and played with him. Then a male walked in, dark complexioned with a handsome face and a shaved head. He asked if I liked his dog and I said I loved the dog to pieces. He tried to finish packing and told me he was taking his dog with him, and that I should run away with him too. I laughed and said I didn’t think it was possible. He didn’t respond but he didn’t look happy.

I walked to the other side of the room and exited through another door, leaving him there packing with his dog. I found another set of stairs and descended. At the bottom, I found the man I had recently been seeing and with whom I had reached a point of discord. I walked into his arms, hesitantly. I reached up to hug him and he hugged me back. Then he kissed me and said, “Everything will be alright.” When I opened my eyes to look back at him, I woke up.

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About Margaret Wang

In this crazy World, if we have something to say we should say it; whether in word, song, dance or paint. As writers, we write what we must, what we see, what we feel and what others experience but cannot articulate or understand. This is the duty and power of the writer; to release into the world our visions and our passions as if bleeding dry. Here at Stuck Pig I give you my word and hope that my voice reaches like minds so they know they are not alone, and unlike minds so they may share my glasses for a day. This is life lived as me, digested by me and translated for anyone caring to step out of their shoes for a few paragraph’s length. I am vulnerable and opinionated. You may judge me justly or unjustly, as I judge the rest of the world. I invite you to view Life through my window. View all posts by Margaret Wang

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