Dream: I’m going to stay overnight at my mother’s house, after a period of estrangement. (Actually, the house in the dream is my grandmother’s, two doors down, but it’s my mom inside).
It’s getting dark out. The lights in the house are on.
Someone (Leroy?) is letting himself in to the Hocker house next door. I wave hello to him. He waves back. I’m waiting on the opposite side of Allen Street for traffic to subside, so I can cross to my destination.
The Hodgnoski house, to my left, is overflowing with pink roses. I can see them over the wood fence around the small triangular yard. I know the yard is all paved over with concrete, but that doesn’t occur to me in the dream. I feel a covetous pang. It would be nice to live with roses.
I finally cross. My mom is standing at the window, watching me intently through half-shut blinds. She is till angry.
I’m carrying a briefcase full of work. I realize that I’ve forgotten to bring any clothes, toothbrush, etc.
I climb the three stone steps, reach into my pants pocket for the key. It’s on a ring with many others, noticeably smaller than the rest. When I turn it in the lock, the end of it mostly breaks off, but I can both get the lock open and pull the damaged key back out.
My mother does not move from her spot at the window. I stand there on the step, not going in, staring at the broken key in my hand.
-- © 2010 by Jack Veasey
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