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Showing posts with label italian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label italian. Show all posts

Monday, March 12, 2018

Respect the Wind

A Dream From The Past




My mom and I talk about a paradise that we have visited. A perfect place, except for the many days of rain. I can't recall the name, but it sounds like Hawaii.

We move to Las Vegas. This is the paradise that we believed in, although, the place we described was quite different.

I stand outside in the front yard when off in the distance, I see a black tornado. It isn't clear yet whether the twister is coming our way. I run inside and tell my mom of the storm. My mom, a kid, named Joseph, and I run down into the basement. My sister Kristen is asleep in her bedroom, which is at the entry to the basement. My mom tries to convince her to wake up to avoid the danger. She stays in bed.

While hiding in the corner of the basement, I can hear the tornado getting louder. It is very close to our house. I run to my sister's room and yell at her to get up. To seek shelter. Once again, she declines until she hears the sound of the storm tearing her room apart. She sees how important the situation has become and decides to seek shelter, but it is too late. The black tornado sucks her out of her bedroom window. The rest of us hide.

When the storm is over, we turn into an Italian family. My name is probably Vinny Santoro or something like that. A family friend comes over to ask a favor. He wants to rebuild my sisters demolished bedroom. For how much? He says, $25,000.00. My little Italian brother, standing next to me, assumes that mom will never go for that. I tell him to let me talk to mom and see what I can do. The family friend is pleased.

I walk into my deceased sister's room. Everything is painted white. Glass cupboards and shelves are everywhere. One of our cleaning ladies, an older woman, is in one of the cabinets working. A young cleaning lady walks in. I go to her, and we embrace. I begin to cry. Dream ends.

I wake up

Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Lawbreaker

Dream 11/1/16



I'm driving with some friends to a mall. When approaching an intersection, the light goes from green to yellow. I speed up. Red. I stop before the white line, but then decide that I don't want to wait, so I drive through the red light, somehow avoiding a collision. I'm terrified that a cop will pull me over.

We stop at Arby's to satisfy our hunger. I order a loaded Italian combo, but instead of curly fries I get a large order of Jalapeno Bites, a Mountain Dew to drink and a cherry turnover. My friends are standing by a coat rack flexing, talking about how they both have girly arms. After we get done with our food, I walk up to pay for the meal. The line is long, my friends convince me that I've already paid, but in the back of my mind, I know that I haven't. Once again, I am afraid that the cops are coming to get me. Dream ends.

 I wake up

Friday, July 31, 2015

Pasqually

Dream 7/31/2015



My friend Robby and I walk up the basement stairs to the first-floor landing.

On the right side of the stairs are shelves of stuffed animals. We observe them as we walk. Three of them are six feet tall and still in their box. I point out that these were won by our friend Tim. Behind them is a stuffed animal twice their size, about twelve or thirteen feet tall. I show Robby the one that I added to the collection. It sits on a shelf near the door upstairs. I call him Chuck E. Cheese but his real name is Pasqually, a little Italian chef with a full mustache. He is by far my favorite.

Before our eyes, the toys come to life. I have a gorilla at my feet that wants to be held. The six-foot animals are looking at me. I raise my hands, growl, and beat my chest. They become angry and try to escape their boxes but they only tumble over. Robby wants to stay but I don't. I've seen enough. I escape through the upstairs door. The gorilla tries to follow me. I can't get the door closed without squishing him. I nudge him with my foot through the door before trying to close it. I have to do this a few times before it finally works.

I am met by a grumpy, old man. He wants to go to the basement. I let him through. He probably won't enjoy his trip down. Dream ends.

I wake up

"The road to hell is paved with unbought stuffed animals." -Ernest Hemingway