Dream Journal
I stood in an organ donor’s dorm room. I told B that no one had wanted to look through her things after her death, but I would because it was very important.
Riding down the dorm’s outdoor glass elevator looking over the snowy campus, I asked Jeff if he remembered how we were when we first met. He leaned close and I wanted to kiss the soft spot under his jaw and feel his arms around me. There were two others in the elevator unaware of this tension between us.
At my mother’s house, I asked her to try the three different kinds of ice cream I was testing for Steve’s birthday. She refused to taste them, saying that she doesn’t like coffee, but I convinced her to try them.
I took the ice cream maker into the back room to clean it in the large tub sink. I ran water through each of the metal and plastic pieces, flushing out all of the leftover ice cream.
Done cleaning the machine, I went back into the kitchen and found the small white cups of ice cream untouched and melting. I was annoyed at my mom for not trying them like she said she would.