21 Sep

We sit in church, waiting.

It’s your baptism day.

Even in my dream, this seems odd. The light drifts in the windows, musty, illuminating the stations of the cross that inhabit the church I grew up in. The ceilings still soar.

You cry as they pour the water on your head, and I am confused. I do not want this for you, every pore of my body screams that this is wrong, and I should grab you and run.

I sit and watch the rite completed. The older women around me smile their satisfaction. I feel terrified.

When I wake up, Mogo tells me I was giggling in my sleep.

One Response to “Dream”

  1. bon September 21, 2007 at 10:35 am #

    now i’m giggling too.

    my mother wishes i had those dreams.

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