The Dream

Waking up. Middle of the night. There was a bus outside, a school bus, as I recall. I was perplexed, but I walked towards. There were others inside. Shadowy, restless, lost. An old man sat at the front. The driver I thought. The bus began rolling, lumbering in the middle of the night. We rode for some time, finally stopping at the foot of a creek. The rustle of water and all was still. We all crossed the creek. Icy fingers stabbed at my feet. Reaching the other end, up crags, a hollow space. A cave I think. We spent a long time there. Doing what I cannot recall. Each one of us spent time in front of a fire with the old man. What he said I cannot say. Then it was time to leave. The outside was changed. Rain and gray. The creek had swelled, high and turbulent it swirled. Fear kept to myself. Everyone seemed to know what to do. All held hands and crossed the creek. An older woman stayed behind. I thought about going back to help her, but I did not. I thought of joining hands with the ones before, but I did not. High water, current right to left. I tried to cross, straight ahead. The water did not drag me but held me fixed, unable to cross ahead. I struggled, still held in place. Then, as I moved left, the current carried me to the other edge. I looked behind, the old man helped the older woman cross. The current carried me across.