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After drinking beer, he got his wind up, passed some wind, and then ran like the wind when he realized he was late for his flight to the Windy City.
The Sisters Dream
I was with several of my sisters. We were all younger than now.
Don’t know where we exactly were. Outside. Mostly flat and sort of muddy to start.
I’d been off doing something and then returned, looking for them, as it was time to go. I found them by a large broken cement sewer pipe coming out of the base of a dirt hill. Multiple bottles and trash was there.
One of the sisters asked, “Michael, can you help us? We want to clean up these bottles but we don’t know how.”
They had two large plastic containers with a spout on top. Way too small to put the bottles in. So I tore the top of the plastic away. They thanked me and we loaded the bottles up, often breaking them. Some bottles were already broken. As they warned me to be careful, I picked up the bottles and put them in the plastic. Then I carried those away, depositing them somewhere safe.
I was ready to go, so I began walking. My sisters were several hundred yards away. I wanted time to myself. Deciding to avoid them, I began running. My sisters called my name: I ignored them, running faster.
I crossed the muddy plain and then ended up on a highway’s wide shoulder. Traffic was heavy to my right. Dusk was coming. Left was a lot of new constructions: houses and stores were being built, but was suspended for the night.
I thought, wow, that’s a lot of construction. The construction and changes threw me off. I hadn’t been in the area for a while. Confused about where I was going, I decided to go back to my sisters.
Turning around, I gawked with some amazement. I hadn’t realized how far and fast I’d run. Running back, my speed amazed me even more.
I reached the spot where I’d last seen my sisters. They weren’t visible. I called them; no answer.
Then I found them, along with their previous husbands, and more of my family. I looked for my wife but she wasn’t there. I saw my younger sister’s ex-husband, JJ, and said hello to him, adding, “Good to see you.”
The group told me we were going to Sharon and John’s. She’s my sister and that’s her husband. Then the group kind of wandered around, dawdling. Impatient, I went to Sharon and John’s house.
It was a small place. In the dining room was a large oval, polished wood table. Arrayed in front of it on one side were three rows of seven baby highchairs. They were different colors and ages. Each had a placard on it.
I was mystified. Like, what’s going on here? Is this where they expected us – adults – to sit? We wouldn’t fit in those chairs. No, they seemed to be set up for something. Classes for children?
Then the chairs rearranged themselves. Many disappeared. Matthew Perry was seated at one of the tables. Reprising his role as Chandler Bing from “Friends”, he did a few scenes. Except, he was the size of a baby.
John came in. I said, “How was that done,” gesturing to Perry/Bing in a highchair. John explained, “Oh, that’s Matthew Perry. He was in “Friends”.”
I answered, “I know all that, but that’s not him. That’s the size of a child. Is that a puppet? Animation?” It was completely lifelike.
We went back and forth, with John explaining the same thing in almost the same ways. I kept asking questions, trying to clarify it, but never got an answer. My sister came in, interrupting us to announce that there were sandwiches in the other room.
Dream end.
The Writing Moment
Finished the first draft of “A Tribe Called Death” today.
Began it on impulse in December, 2025. Set it aside to finish “Unfocused”. Wrote and revised five drafts of “Unfocused” before setting it aside to cool at the end of May of this year.
Then I returned to “A Tribe Called Death”. It managed to flow out in very satisfying ways. I didn’t want to write or talk about it because I didn’t want to jinx it — knock wood — so I only spoke about it to my wife from time to time. Never talked about what it was about; only told her about generic writing progress.
Today, I wrote The End.
320 pages. 70,000 words.
A vampire, detective, and the Ministry of Death.
Now I’ll set it aside. Let it cool. Pick up “Unfocused” again tomorrow. Revise and edit it again.
Prepare to submit it to somewhere, someone.
And go on.
Randy & the General Dream
I was back in the military. One of my people, Randy, a friend, was chosen for a special honor. He was very nervous.
I told him, “Relax, there’s nothing to worry about. You’ll do great.” I then promised to circle back around but I had dozens of things to attend so I kept moving.
Somebody caught me and asked me if it was true that Randy had been selected for the honor. Yes, I confirmed. Did I have anything to do with it, I was asked. Yes, I answered, I nominated him and wrote up the nomination.
Leaving them, I checked on another task. A young officer was selected for a risky mission. I went by to see him and ask if I needed anything. He thanked me for my part in getting him the assignment because he knew I had something to do with it. Laughing, I joked, “Oh, no, don’t try to pin this on me,” and moved on.
After going by some other places, I returned to Randy. More details were emerging. He’d been sitting in a stadium full of people. A spotlight and camera would be on him.
I again assured him that he’d be fine. He then put on a black sports jacket. He told me, “I hate wearing things like this.”
I answered, “You’ll be fine. It’s just for a short time. Besides, it makes you look skinnier.”
He laughed and swore at me.
Time for me to leave. I headed for the exit, still with many things to do. A one star – brigadier general – tall, white, skinny – stopped me. I didn’t know him.
He explained that he’d heard that I’d supported the officer’s request for the assignment.
“Yes,” I replied. “I talked to him and he wanted it.”
The general said, “But it’s risky.”
“I know,” I said.
The general went on, “It took a lot of courage for you to agree with him going.”
“It did,” I agreed.
Thinking the conversation over, I went to move past him.
The general apparently thought I wanted a hug. When I realized that, I reciprocated the hug but I found it very strange. We ended up in an awkward half embrace that was made worse because he was much taller than him. When I looked up at his face, I was surprised that he was teary eye.
We broke the hug. I began moving on.
Dream end.
A Dad Leak Dream
There was a leak in the bathroom.
A thick tube of clear water spurted out of the wall. White tiles had been removed above the tub about five feet up. Oh, dear, what a mess, with some black fuzzy thing happening in the opening.
A trio of engineers, casually dressed, of different styles, heights, ages, one woman, two men, came in on behalf of the townhouse association. Because this wasn’t unique to this townhouse. It’d happened throughout the complex. This trio was going unit to unit to assess and strategize. I was just watching them from back by the door, listening as they ignored me. The spoke of how to fix it, what must be done.
Leaving, I headed across a common through sunshine to my own townhouse because, hey, that had been my father’s place, which slightly changed everything. He wasn’t there to look after it, so I was acting on his behalf.
I entered my own townhouse where the same problem existed but seemed to be on a much smaller scale. Some wall had been removed from the bathroom to the right which didn’t seem to have anything to do with the leak. I didn’t understand what that was about but I knew where to go for explanation.
I sought that women and this little rotund blonde explained something that kind of made sense and eased my anxieties. Going off again, I found I had a broken arm. No, not broken, just not working right. I’d been advised to keep it in a sling. I didn’t have a sling, so I fashioned one, and then modified it again and again, decided this was a good place to keep things, like my wallet, keys, and glasses.
So I tucked them in but then needed more material, so I added other things, and reshaped it, and reshaped it. People were going past as I did this and I turned away, trying to keep things private.
I decided to call my stepmother to tell her about Dad’s townhouse. Then I realized that Dad was dead and this was a dream. That I had actually a dream in a dream, and that the townhouse with the plumbing problem wasn’t real.
But I called my stepmother. I said, “I was thinking about Dad because it’s his birthday.” Then I realized, that’s not right. I said, “No, because it was my birthday.”
She was talking but it came to me, this call isn’t happening; it’s also a dream.
I awoke.
Crime & Plumbing Dream
The dream found me at home – not my real-life place – with my wife. I awoke to discover that she had hired people to fix the plumbing. Thick, dark dust filled the air from the work. Three men were going all through the house, looking at the pipes and changing things.
I was floored that my wife had apparently decided to do that without consulting me. “First that I’ve heard about it,” I huffed before going off.
Coming back later, the men were in another part of the house. The three were all older, with short hair, white skin, and wore coveralls. Weirdly, usually they stayed clustering, staring at the pipes and talking about what they were going to do.
I came across my wife in another room. Wrench in hand, she was working herself on plumbing in a bathtub. I was like, “What the hell?”
I noticed that she was working on the faucet and spigots but she was on the side of the tub and had the floor torn up; but the tub still had its faucet and spigots attached on the end. I wondered, is she putting in new ones on the side to make it easier for her? Or putting in a new tub? I didn’t.
Going outside, I saw that she had people working in the garden and was building something new out there. That worried me. I knew that she had evidence of crimes committed buried there. (I was thinking that it was a murder but I didn’t seem sure.) I went back and told her that I didn’t think that was a smart decision but she was busy with the pipes and didn’t respond.
Returning outside, I saw a large rock being moved; I knew that was crucial evidence. With a sigh, I also saw that a police detective I’d seen earlier was watching and saw the rock. A little later, the police began digging up the area.
I thought, my wife is going to be going away, because her DNA is all over that. That disappointed and saddened me but I also thought, I should be okay because my DNA won’t be there.
Dream end
Michael Seidel, writer 