Dream travels and talks with ghosts

Sometimes dreams are more like visitations and the afterlife is unexpected

I woke up hard this morning.

As in, I’d gone so far away I wasn’t sure I’d returned.

I lay in bed for a long time, then lifted my hands up and squinted nearsightedly at them, as I do every morning, to make sure I came back into the right body. (Getting lost while sleeping and coming back somewhere else seems like a real possibility sometimes.)

Photo by Noel Nichols on Unsplash

I inherited hands from our father, with deft, blunt fingers and a meaty, muscular palm; unfeminine square hands I’ve come to appreciate for all they can do if not for their looks. Those are the bitten cuticles I knew; as were the sesame-seed freckles, and the red spot I suspected was the beginning of another skin cancer.

Over my lifetime I’ve been a dreamer who experiences nighttime as a series of immersive movies. Because of that, I’ve paid attention to, and som…