Sometimes, the muse sneaks in and takes over without a word. Hours speed by like seconds. A day of writing passes in a blizzard of words.
I’d met some people on the road. We were going in the same direction, so we traveled together. I was about my current age, it seemed. It was a dark night. We were in a car that felt and seemed like a Jeep but I was sitting the back and another person sat behind me. This was a woman. The ride was rough and we bounced around a great deal.
I seemed to know the woman behind me slightly more than the rest. She said, “You seem like you’re very stressed.”
Laughing, I replied, “That’s an optical illusion.”
Saying, “Let me give you a massage,” she began massaging my shoulders and neck.
It felt so good. After a minute, I told her that. She leaned forward, pressing herself against my back, comforting me. Warmth flowed from her into me. I leaned back into it and turned my head. I wanted to kiss her but stopped myself.
Then she and I were walking together in an airport. She said something about her flight being changed. I reminisced about how I used to travel so frequently, I was often upgraded and never bumped because my travels were a priority. She said, “I bet your travels used to be a high priority, especially the ones in the military.” I shrugged that off because I couldn’t say that was true. Priority was always a complicated matrix in those days.
I was looking at our clothes. Very tall and my age, she was dressed in a light grey suit. I was in a charcoal gray suit. It was an unusual style, almost pseudo-military, and very wrinkled. I said something about needing to upgrade my suit or at least iron it.
We reached the gates. My flight was already boarding, so we hugged and said good-bye. The agent took my ticket and waved me in.
The sun lifted over the planet’s turn at 5:41 AM. It’s 18 C on this Wednesday in July, 2022. The 6th finds us expecting a high of 80 F, a few showers, and a sunset of 8:50 PM. Again. Hotter weather is on the way, and a surge into the nineties is in the projections for next week. An archipelago of white clouds are hanging out. Humidity is up to 76%. Feels a little muggy to me.
Another night of dreams rocked my sleep. The Neurons dragged “Everything You Want” out of the technicolor mire into the morning mental music stream. I can’t peg which dream or scene it relates to, but The Neurons insist that they do. Who am I to argue with them? The Vertical Horizon song from 1999 is firmly staked to the Bay area commute from that year. The first two thirds of the year had me driving from Mountain View to Redwood City and back and the last third’s commute was Half Moon Bay to Redwood City and back. Not far by car in mileage, the trip home was generally an hour to an hour and a half. I had a lot of music and talk radio. Pity the people that go yet further.
Stay positive and test negative, etc. Anyone up for coffee? I know I am. Here’s the music. Enjoy. Cheers