Catch up

12/13
I am working with an older woman on some pressing matter, so pressing we put calls in to Italy. We are speaking Italian fluently, beautifully. I am wishing I am back there while I hear my female friend chattering on over the phone, it is only then that I realize she has placed a business call when it is 2, or 3, am across the ocean.

Last night: I am working in a large garage that also resembles one of my aunt's old homes. There are cars and residue of lives lived there. There are children and younger family members moving about. When I travel outside I am warned that one of the kid's father is looking to murder his own child. I am told to keep the kids indoors. We take up life in the rotted-out backseats of old Chevys and Fords. There are dogs there too. One in particular, black and feisty, won't stop barking, and we don't want the attention. I cozy up to him, but he immediately begins to bite at my hands, fingers. I grow immune to the sharp serrated teeth piercing my skin. I move one hand from his mouth only to offer him the other in the hopes that he'll remain preoccupied and quiet.

Scene shift. I am working in what was the cafeteria of my old high school. I am compiling Hollywood beauties and studs, literally offering packages of the old stars for mass consumption. There are people milling all around in hopes of buying these people/stars. My Guy is also there with me, and there are some guys from high school at the next table. I am dressed a bit old myself, in a pencil skirt and pressed collar and hair and nails and face all done. I notice the guys from school giving me the eye and watching my figure work its way around the room. I am flirting, but don't want Guy to know. I make my way nearer (to the guys), when one of them asks me for a dime with a devilish grin, I retrieve one and turn my head away as I place it in his open palm, when I turn to look in his face, it is Guy and his palm where my dime resides. This makes me happy.