The Dreams

Dream 195

I laid out the little table with all that was good and delicious, when the doorbell rang. I opened the door and my girlfriend launched herself onto the couch. As soon as she landed on it, her head lolled on the cushion, and her arms fell limp. Scrambling over to her, I slapped her cheeks and and felt her pulse at the wrists.

“O my God!” I cried to myself in terror. “She’s dead!”

Already I could see the specter of crime and scandal. So I carried her with my own arms to the kitchen and threw her from the window that overlooks the building’s stairwell. Then I stood there, trembling from head to toe.

The full glare of morning found me standing with some of the tenants, plus the owner of our home, who talked with us about the lady who’d been taken to hospital.

“She’s dead,” I said.

“No,” the landlord replied. “The doctor told me, ‘There’s a lot of hope we can save her, and the prosecutor is waiting for the right time to speak with her.’ ”

The specter of crime and scandal reappeared before my eyes.