I had a dream and we were in it. I went downstairs and found you in the kitchen, talking on a house phone, the old wire cord getting wrapped around you. Suddenly you lost your train of thought in the conversation as we made eye contact. I came to you and gave you a hug. You embraced me warmly and wouldn’t let go, the phone still preoccupying your ear.
“Uh, do you want to come upstairs and see my cat?” you asked, keeping the transmitter away from your mouth.
I answered in the affirmative and walked towards the living room, as you tried to wrap things up on the other end of the line. My mother was on the couch and asked me where I was going.
“Upstairs…his uh, cat died. I’m going to see his dead cat,” was all I could muster on short notice.
I proceeded to collect my belongings, collect myself. I went upstairs. You met me there.