The Nightmare and the Father
Today, I'm going to tell you about a dream I had once. Specifically, it was a nightmare, and I was 4 or 5. If this tells you anything about me, it's that my imagination is active and my memory is vivid. The dream took place in our home in Richmond, VA (where I lived at the time). My mother was in the kitchen, which had a peninsula. If you were standing in our kitchen looking over the peninsula, the stove would be behind you, and our breakfast nook was in front of you. To the right was an open doorway into our formal dining room, and along the wall that housed that doorway, which extended into the breakfast nook, was my play kitchen. It was off white with teal and yellow accessories, and it had a table that could lift up or collapse. There was a tall, skinny man with a white beard sitting on a barstool at our peninsula (though, we never had barstools at our peninsula) , who was putting together a wooden toy truck. I do not know who this man...