Bubba

My father's house in Fraser. The second house I grew up in. I walk down the hall towards my bedroom. It's cold and dark as it always was. The oat colored carpet feels rough on my feet. I pass the closets that hold extra blankets and toys. My sister's dusty blue bedroom on the right is empty. The house is empty. My room is no longer pink. My little brother lives there now, but he's no where to be found. It's dark. Just a silhouette of trees outside the window. I look around the room and see the outline of an animal. It's my brother's dog bubba. I say come here. We cuddle in bed and fall asleep.  

The Place of Feeling (With The Cast from Girls)

I'm in place that has appeared once or twice before in my dreams. The setting is hard to describe in a visual way. It a place of feeling, feelings of routine and exploration, fear and wonder. I do notice the blue sky and the shell of the building I'm in. It's like a theatre set almost. There are multiple rooms built into a larger space. The cast from Girls weaves in and out. Adam is a prominent figure and I am his girlfriend, not Hanna, but the new one who has recently broken up with him. I make arrangements to go to the studio to shoot the next day, thinking it will only take an hour. Supposedly I am on Coney Island and the Studio is on Staten Island. Everyone assures be there won't be traffic and that I'll surely get there in 30 minutes. That night I'm feeling rushed. There are too many things to accomplish and I don't don't what to tackle first. Adam, who is now a cross-between my husband and Adam and my ex-boyfriend, takes out his penis. It's large and erect and I remove it from him like it's supposed to be removed. Like it's held on with velcro. I masturbate with the penis while my cross-over mate watches me with subtle interest. I suggest he put the penis back on so we can do it together. He seems rushed, but agrees so we do it for a minute until we are interrupted by a few more of the characters from Girls. They are all needy and remind me of my toddler. I get up, look at the clock and realize it's way later than I thought. I have to be at work in 20 minutes. I rush to shower and put my clothes on. I tell myself to put makeup on in the car. Earrings too. I drive and get lost in a sea of traffic. I don't have the studio's phone number. I finally arrive to a neon bowling alley, which is also the studio. I roam through alleys looking for the camera crew. A Native American woman approaches me. "you're too late." She says, despite my apologies and declarations of traffic. "You have one more chance." She says. "The next time you are late, you are fired." I feel panicked, knowing that I'll surely be late again. 

A Filthy Bathroom and The After Party

I'm on a bus filled with a blend of characters and strangers from high school. My arm is linked to a boy I have a secret crush on and we do our best to keep our affections to ourselves. I get up to go to the bathroom and several girls follow me. They are beautiful and talk about all that's involved in the process of staying beautiful. I stand away from them and try my best to keep to myself. The bathroom is filthy, not unlike some of the bathrooms at bus stops in India. Molded walls, trash, shit on the floor. I notice I'm wearing a formal, fluffy gown and pull it way above my head to keep shit off of it. Later I am at a party. It's in a combination of an airplane hanger and Enids, a restaurant I used to frequent in Williamsburg. I am hosting this party, running around trying to get everything prepared. I'm anxious about things being perfect and excited once people start trickling in. One of the first guests is a kid from high school, Brian, and his new wife. he hasn't changed at all and I attempt to ask him about the last 20 years in just a few minutes. The place is filling up and I rush to get drinks and food to people. A woman in a jumpsuit walks in. She says she's my stepmother and that she's writing a book about her life called "step." I tell her that's a great idea, then pour her a drink. 

Someone's wife on Facebook

My friend is looking at pictures of his wife on Facebook. "This distance is good for us," he says. "Look at her jean jacket and that dress." I look over his shoulder at an image of his wife. She seems unhappy.