It was the last day at my old job. Spur of the moment, without checking with my wife, I decided to invite a few co-workers over to my place to just hangout and quietly celebrate my departure. I sent an email to the chosen few and raced home.

As I was pulling into the driveway, my wife was backing out. “Gotta pick up the kids,” she said to me as we passed by each other.

Kids? What kids? I thought to myself. Our kids had long left home. This would not be my first surprise.

Well … whatever. I went inside and was barely in the door before the doorbell rang with the first guest. A couple of my invited co-workers came in. We sat down in the breakfast nook. I wasn’t expecting a big crowd.

Without knocking, a few more came in. Soon, the breakfast nook was too crowded and we spilled into the dining room. 

Who were these people? I didn’t invite this many.

Then a woman came in who I knew wasn’t invited, and she came with her kids and a couple of friends and their kids. All dressed in purple. Something had happened. They were all so happy to be there, to be included in this unplanned, informal going away get-together. How could I stop them?

The flow of people continued. There were so many people in my house, I went out front to get a breath of fresh air and look down the street to see if my wife was on her way back. I was desperate. She would know what to do.

An older man came up to me to thank me for inviting him. He had nothing to do with my last job. He actually was with my new employer. He patted me on the shoulder. I didn’t invite him!

As he walked away, three people came up to me. An older woman I had never met, and two young men, probably in their teens or early twenties, who I had also never met. The woman said something to me. I don’t recall what because as she spoke, one of the young men reached out and caressed my cheek as a lover would. “Come with us, please,” he said. As he spoke, I could tell that he had some type of developmental delay or mental deficiency.

I had no idea what to say, but I knew I wasn’t going with them. The other young man said something else that I didn’t catch, as the first young man reached out again to try to caress my cheek. I stepped back to avoid his touch, while the woman looked at me disapprovingly.


And then I woke up. This morning, I woke up at 6:28. I typically get up then, but I closed my eyes and wished for more sleep. I woke up a half hour later with this dream having played out while I got that extra half hour. I don’t think I’ll be wanting the extra half hour again any time soon. 


About kingmidget

About the name. I was the youngest of four. Until I got to kindergarten, I didn't have much to say. All I had to do to get what I wanted was to point, and a sibling, or loving parent, would fulfill my request. As a result, my father coined the nickname -- King Midget. At least that's the way the story goes. I am a father, husband, friend, and lover, writer, runner, pizza maker, baker, and many other things. What I am not is my occupation. It is my job that pays the bills and provides for my family. But, it does not define me.
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4 Responses to Dreamscape

  1. Dale says:

    Makes you want to analyse this one, eh?

  2. Aren’t dreams funny! I sometimes wonder if they’re another life we’re living, but then some are clearly just phobias, like finding yourself naked in the middle of your home city.

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