weird.
The dream began with a hand reaching out to me, a child’s wet hand. How weird dreams are, just by looking at the shape of that little hand- those little dimples, the chubby fingers, tiny square fingernails- his son.
Then there were two hands, outstretched. A little boy. The little face remained vague, but the hands were clear. I knew by the beat of my heart that it was him. And I heard myself say, are you going to wash your hands?
Yes, he said.
It was really weird because his hands were already wet.
And I took his small hands in mine and we walked to a sink. And we washed his hands. Water running through our fingers, cool. But his tiny body, pressed to mine, was warm.
Then his father. He comes in and says something, I don’t remember. The little boy disappears but his father is left. He is eating from a bag of chips- I think it was Snacku- and all of a sudden we’re seated on a couch, side by side, him eating Snacku. We are somewhat…happy, joking around, smiling. Then I reach out to get some chips for myself and he pulls the bag away and would not share.
I can’t remember if my fingers were still wet, but it felt like it.
I woke up feeling slightly disarmed.
