Thursday, May 31, 2012

It's getting dark and I see a big suburban house at the bottom of a hill. There are well-dressed families getting out of their cars and going to the front door, where they are received warmly. It is a big party. I follow an older couple up the front steps and stand behind them, then follow closely behind as they are invited in. I go up some more stairs inside, carrying the statue of Don Quixote that my late uncle gave his late father, or vice versa. It's a little worn, the platform he is supposed to stand on is broken off, and I am also carrying a light-green button-down dress shirt. I begin to get worried that people might think I am trying to steal the statue from this house and I decide I should put the shirt on. I look for an empty room to duck into so I can put down the statue, take off my cardigan, and put the shirt on, but every room I try to duck into has somebody using the internet in it, or somebody sleeping in the dark. I start to get worried that if I walk into a room with some kids people will think I have snuck in here to do abductions, or worse. I'm not sure how to leave.