I dreamed I was going to a costume party, and I had a tartan dress and a heavy brass great sword, and would be going as a sort of Scottish Joan of Arc. But as I was walking through a red sandstone canyon to get to the party location, I changed my mind. I decided I should go as Turnip Fitzhugh masquerading as the Pink Carnation. I figured I could make it work. I had most of an elaborate outfit of buff pants, black boots, a brocade waistcoat and coat, a flowing cape, and the sword with me, which for some reason all seemed in character.
I decided all I needed was a mask. So I went to a general store near the party site that had a sewing sundries section. I bought some elastic cording, and I snagged a paper plate and some crayons from where the party was setting up, in a small-town community center. I drew pink carnation petals all over the plate, with a hint of green stem and sepal at the bottom. I cut eye holes and threaded the cord into small holes on either side, and my mask was done. It seemed like a quite clever costume to me.
But then I realized that my boots and a really great hat were in my closet in Houston, which was a 2 hour and 45 minute round trip. I decided I had the time, and it was worth it, so I got in my car with a friend who wanted to come, and we set off. I had a really hard time steering and breaking. It was an awful trip. Right outside of Houston we hit a detour. It led us to drive up a grassy, overgrown track, then onto a narrow bridge made of plywood. The detour ended in a residential back yard, where the car would be moved out to the street in front, but not with us in it; we had to walk through the house.
The family didn’t seem to be home, or at least wasn’t downstairs in their kitchen or living room or front hall. We hurried through and we’re almost to the front door when a white Pomeranian and a basset hound bounded into the hall and started barking at me. I turned to make friends, but then I woke up.
No comments:
Post a Comment