Another Dream Where I See a Map.

I walked into the Craft Center and saw all my friends, I got on the computer to buy a train ticket to the little town outside of Seattle where I lived.


It was a city that started with a "B." Maybe Bremerton, Bellevue, Burien, or Bothell... Bainbridge Island? I had a big milk jug of water in one hand, and I was worried I wouldn't get there in time to go to class.

But somehow I got there. I had my suitcase next to me and I wondered distractedly if I really wanted to study French in grad school. Our teacher had long hair and was sitting cross legged on her desk with a guitar in her lap. But we could tell she was a hard ass. She told us to take out a piece of paper and start writing our first composition. She didn't tell us what to write, she just started playing the guitar. I realized that I would have to finish writing the composition before the song was over. I panicked and couldn't find a clean piece of paper.

"Can we write about Zombies?" asked Bryan, "We've been writing about them a lot anyways because of our community center." Kristen agreed. The teacher said we could write about anything. I tried desperately to remember everything that I'd written about zombies in French, but ended up describing a plate of food instead. As I described it I was simultaneously arranging it: small piles of delicate pastel-colored foods on an ornate platter.

Being in Washington I was surprised to notice the Sandias in the background as we drove through town. I said something like "It's just like Albuquerque!" Whoever I was with said something like "Yah that's where they filmed the movie."