What would you do if you got a note from God? Would you sell it on Ebay?
Last night I dreamed that my mother's death was a lie, one she told, one she staged, in order to “get out of something.” As in life, she did not elaborate. I was confused, amazed. I told her I thought it excessive to stage one's own death. I also thought it was the best lie she'd ever told.
In the dream, I saw her as I had never seen her in life: naked, admiring herself before a mirror. She was standing. She raised her arms over her head. She glanced vaguely toward the ceiling and, smiling, said something like, “sa wakas, ngayon lang.”
I knew I was dreaming because she had a full head of hair, and the bones in her chest were no longer visible, and the flesh on her arms, when she raised them, was full and there were small, silken threads there that caught the light.
In the dream, I was the age I am now but my body was small as a child's; as I sat listening to her, I saw that my feet didn't touch the ground; they dangled. I didn't like seeing them like that. What age was I?
In the dream, I saw her as I had never seen her in life: naked, admiring herself before a mirror. She was standing. She raised her arms over her head. She glanced vaguely toward the ceiling and, smiling, said something like, “sa wakas, ngayon lang.”
I knew I was dreaming because she had a full head of hair, and the bones in her chest were no longer visible, and the flesh on her arms, when she raised them, was full and there were small, silken threads there that caught the light.
In the dream, I was the age I am now but my body was small as a child's; as I sat listening to her, I saw that my feet didn't touch the ground; they dangled. I didn't like seeing them like that. What age was I?