I had a dream that I was frantically searching for my car. The people in the dream were people who I have little-to-no contact with these days, people who I care for but, for some reason, I’ve drifted apart from.

My frantic search led me through New York City streets I rarely travel through. I went through the lobbies of luxury buildings and even through apartments where the occupants shouted encouraging words. 

Exhausted, I reached into my pocket for my cell phone and used the GPS. My car was parked several miles north. Inexplicably, I learned that it had been towed to an NYPD parking lot. I’m not sure how I learned this but it simply popped into my head. 

Try as I might, I could not travel north. The more I ran the farther I was to where I needed to be. I decided to call my cousin, the ex-cop, for help. Surely he could help me, I thought. But I couldn’t get my fingers to press the right numbers to connect with him. I gave up by waking up from the dream. 

And now I lie in bed listening to Mozart, the very music that played during my frantic search. 

About Ray Onativia

Blogger, Photographer, Human.
This entry was posted in on my travels and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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