Creeps in cars
A week of relatively ordinary, even dull, dreams were interrupted by shady interlopers.
This week we dreamed of travel. We flashed back to our high school driving lessons. We tolerated our siblings on the way to family holidays. We begrudgingly set off on our commute to work.
Cars, buses, and especially bikes made frequent occurrences in our dreams this week.
We might have forgotten these humdrum visions upon waking if it hadn’t been for the unwelcome guests that came along for the ride.
Lecherous strangers broke in. Once-known fathers went crazy and attacked. Dates in the back of black SUVs took a dangerous turn.
My mom walks from the car to a building. A man in an old blue van stops my mom to talk to her. She turns around and comes right back, not even going into the building.
We get halfway home and she tells me what happened. And I remember this word for word. “That guy in the van, he told me… I fixed your daughter’s AC. It’s an air max isn’t it?”
And mom goes “How did u get in?” The man goes “Through your daughter’s window.” My stomach sank.
