“I dreamt about serial killers today when I was taking a nap,” Henry said as we got ready for bed last night. He started to elaborate, but I cut him off.
“Oh, I had the WORST dream last night. I was on vacation. I think it was supposed to be Romania, but there were ice caps everywhere, so I think in my dream Romania had relocated to the Arctic Circle. It was so beautiful, there were rainbows everywhere—“
Henry snorted. “Rainbows? And this was a nightmare?”
Ignoring him, I continued. “I was on a bus with this guy Jared that I haven’t even thought about since high school, and the road we were on was flush with all this water, I think it was an ocean?” I could sense Henry holding back laughter next to me. “And the bus driver was driving erratically and I was so afraid we were going to careen over the road and into the water—“
“But there were rainbows,” Henry reminded me, trying not to laugh.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t funny! It was a fucking scary dream. Fucking forget about the rainbows. And I remember–“
At this point, I’m envisioning some barbed wire pulled taut around Henry’s nads, but I forge ahead with my traumatic tale.
“– in my dream, trying to find my phone so I could tweet about it, but I was distracted—“
“Probaby because of the rainbows,” Henry guessed, and started laughing into the pillow.
I never finished telling him about my dream.