Monday, August 21, 2006
Dreams are odd things...
Lately, when I dream about my sister who has died, I dream that we are fighting about something. Last night we were fighting over a wooden bowl full of milk. Just before I woke up, we'd been tugging on it and spilled the milk on ourselves. I woke when my parents buzzed from the front door.
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2 comments:
Dreams *are* odd-they can be chilling, or compelling, joyous or filled with grief. Strange what the unconscious mind conjures up. I am so sorry you lost your sister...
WEIRD. I never remember my dreams, so I guess that's kind of good.
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