The Old Neighborhood

Originally Written: February 19, 2015

I dreamed about my old neighborhood last night and a couple of the people who lived there. Miss Franny was David’s mother. She lived up the hill from us in a tiny, faux brick house. She was distinguished by her Baltimore accent, Lilliputian size, gigantic personality, and the fact that she drove an old car (after her husband went to work) even though she did not have a driver’s license. She once gave me a tomato with an odd, little growth to take to my mother, saying, “Tell her it’s a boy.”

I dreamed that David was at my house, and it was dark and very cold. He only had his bike. I woke my mother to tell her that I was going to drive him home, but that I wanted her to be awake when I returned because I was afraid someone would “get” me on the way from the car to the house. About that time, I felt unfamiliar arms going around my back. I woke screaming.


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