The girl in the dream

(written about 13 years ago)

She writes songs. In fact, she had the No. 1 song in the world. The words and melody struck so many people so deeply they had to own it and play it again anytime they wanted.

She lives alone on the second floor of a two-story building. Maybe it was above a storefront, I couldn’t see the details outside. All I saw was a long hallway, windows along the one side and the sun coming in. But she didn’t look out the windows. She lives alone and never comes out.

The dream was about recording an album and we started talking about her, and how she could come out of the apartment anytime she wanted if she weren’t so scared. I remember saying that song has made her a millionaire but she can’t come out. Why is she so afraid? What is she so afraid of?

I woke up haunted by the young woman. In the dream I was the musician making the album; we were between sessions, it seems, because the conversation was taking place outdoors, in a car. I was also the girl, because I remember that long hallway and the sunshine I couldn’t bear to see and feel. The song has given her all of her material needs. All she needs now is to gather the courage and step outside. But it feels so comfortable in the apartment. She’s simultaneously afraid to leave and aware there’s nothing to fear. And the world loves her song.

I heard no music in the dream, but I knew: It was a beautiful song.

Published by WarrenBluhm

Wordsmith and podcaster, Warren is a reporter, editor and storyteller who lives near the shores of Green Bay with his wife, two golden retrievers, Dejah and Summer, and Blackberry, an insistent cat. Author of Full, Refuse to be Afraid, Gladness is Infectious, 24 flashes, How to Play a Blue Guitar, Myke Phoenix: The Complete Novelettes, A Bridge at Crossroads, The Imaginary Bomb, A Scream of Consciousness, and The Imaginary Revolution.

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