Night entering May 5

The house is tall and narrow, almost just big enough for the spiral staircase that twists through it. We are looking for something, almost urgently.

[I will use him as a distraction from the other figure who haunts my thoughts. He I can remember and feel no anxiety.]

A rat with a bunny's tail. A woman I can't fully see. My mom with a criminal mind. She is sick, I am afraid when she looks at me.

There is a station, a pay station, full of credit card terminals. The lighting here is reddish - like a dull bulb in a salmon colored room. On one side we are waiting; she forgot what was most important. The puppies bark. She is upset, hurt, she feels betrayed and unappreciated. Her sister is there, paying also. But this is a two second clip in a twenty (40, 60, 10?) minute dream.

[How can I show you that I love you?]

There is something I am not telling you. Forgive me, I am trying to remember. We are getting ready. That's it: this is an annual event. Our tree house soiree (I don't even know what that word means.)

There are six people in this room. We don't breathe too heavily. Something is wrong, off; I feel unsteady. My eyes dart back and forth. But this man, he is sure of himself, and so then of him I am weary. I hold his hand.