A Dream, for the Dreamers' Sakes

The semester had started and I realized none of my textbooks I’d ordered had arrived. You know, a physics workbook, a sociology textbook, etc. (Classes, of course, I never actually took in college.) So I called the bookstore. Then I called the library. I called and called and numbers rang then dropped. I finally marched myself over to the library in a panic full of whoop-ass. You know, “Fuck—I need these books. Why don’t you people send them? Or answer your damn phones?”

I get to the library. I explain my situation, and a nice lady points me to another nice lady, who is passing by, and so happens to be 7 feet tall. And very beautiful. Medium-brown hair, cropped closely to her head. A light sea-blue comfy shirt. “Come with me,” she says.

We get in a little cart-like thing. And we take off.

The cart follows tracks through the depths of the library and shoots right out through some hidden door. We’re flying through fields like ones I remember in the south of England. Dipping hills and bare trees in the distance. Now there’s snow, and I realize she’s actually steering us because we’ve come off the tracks. I’m marveling at the length and beauty of the journey as we travel; “Wow, I wonder why the school doesn’t just sell the textbooks at the store like my old college did.”

Suddenly, we arrive.

The woman takes my hand and runs with me through New England-ish trees, thick and thin, branches everywhere, twirled into a near-jungle-like scene. She flings me into a house with a floor the color of her shirt, a light sea blue, and trim the color of cranberries. I explore, finding a small bed tucked up against one wall of the cottage (the journey is too far not to stay a while), and I see through the window both a raggedy wild turkey and what may have been a beaver? (I know. Fine.) There’s also a very dark golden retriever running around. A peaceful feeling washes over me, and I realize that maybe it’s not totally absurd to store textbooks at this place.