Dream a Little Dream

Awhile back, Writer 3 told me she'd had a dream about me. "What kind of dream?" I said suspiciously.  Her dreams tended to be surreal. I might find myself turned into a newt or cast as Dumbledore in a lengthy reworking of Harry Potter set in the Laotian countryside.

"It involved a red suit," she replied.

"Oh really?" Now I was interested. I have always aspired to fashion, and a red suit sounded like something I'd wear.

"You were on TV being interviewed about your book and you wore a red suit."

Writing success and clothes? Now this was a dream I could really get behind. "Did I look okay?" I'm not one of those people who can add fifteen pounds without worrying about it.

"Fantastic!"

Okay, so now I had a TV worthy body, outfit and career. Part of me wished I could crawl inside Writer 3's head and experience this fantasy first hand. "Are you psychic?" I said, hoping for a resounding 'yes'.

"Um, I don't think so, but I don't usually dream dreams like that." As noted above, this was certainly true.

So now I was faced with a quandary. Was the dream a sign of things to come or, more likely, merely wishful thinking? I decided for the former. At the end of the day, writing is about creating wonder out of nothing. Practical people don't get that far.

"I think you are psychic," I said firmly.

She laughed, but we both understood. Dreams are what you make of them.

So, don't change that channel, because I'll be coming soon to a television near you. In the meantime, I've got a red suit to buy!