a dream I had about a girl at my door

I guess it was Day. At least that’s who it looked like; herself an Ella-Rae Smith look-alike. She’d just been to my place a short while earlier, she said she was coming back and there she was, wiggling the locked door knob with a melodramatic plea like a kid who’d been purposely locked out by a mischievous sibling.

If it were most other people, I wouldn’t want to be bothered, but, as cute as she is, she could visit basically any time she wanted. “Here I come,” I said thru the door, though, I thought to myself, I should’ve waited till I backed away from it. Not doing so made it obvious I had to prepare for her revisit.

I was wearing something I wanted to take off; a fancy (vanilla/orange) sherbet-colored shirt I’d never wear in real life. The thought of it reminds me of Seinfeld’s Puffy Shirt, though it wasn’t nearly as tacky or ostentatious. I put it, with perhaps another accessory or two, in what seemed like a bucket in the hall.

That hallway, unlike the shirt, was indeed ostentatious. It was actually a lit corridor of sorts that ran at least twenty or thirty feet and led to the bathroom much like you’d see at a movie theater. I don’t know if it was a house or an apartment I was living in, but it was quite elegant compared to my real-life dwellings.

Maybe that’s why she liked coming over, though my deliberate charm probably had more to do with it. She was nice too, but her looks were all I really cared about. If our friendship involved sex or romance, and as much as I’d like to think she was coming back for the former, it wasn’t evident in this short dream.

I knew she’d probably see what I was trying to hide if she went to the bathroom, but I didn’t really care enough to look for a better hiding spot. Besides she was there at the door, waiting for me to let her in. The longer I took, the more obvious it would be that I’m doing something I didn’t want her to see.

2024 [ May 18 ]