Lisa asked us all to relate a dream this week in Erratic Thoughts.
When I was twelve years old, right after I got my first period, I had a dream that I was giving birth on top of a sarcophagus. It was the first time I realized that I dream in color. The field around me in the New England-y graveyard was vivid green, the blood that was gushing everywhere was bright red, and the sarcophagus was a wonderful, marbled gray. A nurse was using fluffy, white towels to mop up all the gore. But I just ignored her. I lay there on that grave, staring across the vast field and watching clouds move in the sky.
When I woke up, I thought: my, that was symbolic.
