Journal of 11/25/2019

Dali dreams of a bee around a pomegranate, but I dream of Gabriel, my lost son, one second before waking.

I sat in my living room, packing boxes. Someone else was there too, maybe Aelora? Maybe Joan? Perhaps both. I sat and the boxes stacked around me. They reached over my head, as I sat, in the room. 

And then suddenly Gabriel appeared on the other side of them.

He just popped in and -oh my god- my heart warmed at his smile. My face stretched into a smile that matched his. My beloved son. He’s here.

He glances toward the closet over my shoulder and I turn to see the door is open. Then I wake and weep.

I need to check that closet today.

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