July 7, 2024

covid dreams

Welcome to the Sunday post.

I can’t send this without referencing the increased anxiety among people I know and don’t. If you’re feeling despair, I offer this, from Ijeoma Oluo.

6/28/24

I was staying with a much younger version of my kid, at a house near a bay, and the Hart Family lived in one wing of the house. Twice I got up to do something in the house and I discovered there was some sort of platform that popped up on the guest landing. Later, we drove around the house and I recognized where I was. My mother was in the car with me, and the car rolled right off the road into the water and kept on driving.

On land again, I drove the outskirts of the town and looked for a place for us to have lunch. I made a U-turn and drove past an old mission with a bunch of young children playing outside.

7/2/24

I was inside a big, unfamiliar house—a farm house—but one of the rooms was mine. People I know ran a day camp outside.

On the floor was a big toddler. She had thick eyelashes and hardly any hair. She emitted a sweetness and I cuddled with her, this overgrown baby.

Outside the house, dozens of parents and small children roamed the green fields. I watched one woman in particular who swiveled her head in an odd way as she listened to a man who was skateboarding around her. He said the word canyon in his monologue, while a song played about a canyon, as he skated a small canyon.

Back inside the farm house all the doors to the rooms were closed and I understood that people could be sleeping inside.

And that must mean my own room was taken.

🌀