birds in a barrel's mission is to release creative nonfiction into the wild.

40 Days & 40 Writes is its first project.

Dream Date

I rarely remember my dreams these days. Maybe because I have such a hard time sleeping at all.

When I was a child I had a recurring bad dream in which I would be walking along some scenic path and would suddenly be blind and unable to cry out, and I could not stop myself from walking. There would often be some dangerous precipice situation that I feared would be my inevitable destiny. I would awaken in a tangle of sheets, breathing heavily and nearly weeping at my close call. What the hell.

In the early days, before we were married, I would often dream of my pre-husband picking up girls right under my nose. We would be sitting in a dream bar after some dream rock show that he had worked and some dreamy girl – usually a blonde – would come by.

He: “Oh, hey! How are you? Haven’t seen you in ages!. Did you see the show?”

I would begin to feel uncomfortable at their familiarity and excuse myself to go to the dream ladies’ room.

When I returned, he would be gone, the blonde would be sipping his drink. Where did He go?, I might say.

She: He had to leave. He said he’d call me later.

I would awaken furious. Hating him. What did I do?, he would say. It was a dream! Not real!

But I knew, in the dream He spoke with his exact voice, acted true to his nature, and I feared it was my inevitable destiny.

Whatshername

Little Forgotten Big Things