Dreams:

1. We were getting married in your parents backyard. It was fall and I was wearing a dress made entirely of peacock feathers. No wedding happened, we were nervous, we walked into the woods. There were tall trees with no branches, the floor was a carpet of soft pine needles. You had a red fox that followed you around through the woods like one of your cats.

2. You were running down the median strip of a 1970’s neighborhood at dusk, the kind with the flat, one-story houses with two car garages. It was summertime, the air was wet and thick and just starting to cool down. With each step, fireflies rose up in a cloud around you.