Green Water

I dreamt that it was morning, and that I was in a rental car, parked on a misty, shady street by a river. Tidy houses lined the street, each with white wrap-around porches. A man dressed in a pale-colored sports coat came out of the house next to mine, sat down on his porch and had a bowl of cereal.

I was rooting in the glove compartment of the rental car. In there, I found a box of Raisin Bran. I opened the box of cereal and tried one flake, dry. It was stale, so I put it all away.

Across the slow river, was a house half-hidden by drizzle and willow trees. I could see a set of wide thick concrete steps, leading from the back yard of the house, down into the green waters of the river. Or maybe it was a lake. I imagined the waters to be warm, relaxing.

And woke, thirsty.

The day is misty, rainy. Dim and glistening with the new green of Spring grass and budding tree leaves. Water is suspended (or dripping) everywhere. Rain-drops making glass circles in the pond.

Next to my computer, is a tall Guinness glass that I had filled with water, earlier. I have very nearly drank it dry...