12:30PM J just had a nightmare, where she screamed in her sleep about something.
“Honey, you’re having a bad dream.”
“Yes I am!”
“Well, I’ll just leave you alone then.”
So it went. She desired no reassurance that she was simply dreaming, that she wasn’t alone. She went back to sleep. I came back downstairs to trains, blogging, planning, experiencing that aching loneliness of my nightmare called waking.
She will sleep two, three hours longer. I will go swimming. I need to go swimming, at the Y, where I will see my friends, revel in the cool sensual experience of swimming.
Meanwhile I will drink coffee, while watching a trash train passing through Ashland, trash all stuffed in big green boxes. For relief , Amtrak #79, The Carolinian, speeds through, headed to Charlotte.
As quickly as that passing train enters and leaves the camera’s view, my enthusiasm for a swim vanishes. I want to sleep again. Or maybe eat. Or maybe just cry.