The car gurgled and spat and slowed to a stop. It was just before nightfall. I was in a cluttered neighborhood with narrow, dimly lit streets. I turned off the engine, got out of the car and walked to the door of the first small cottage I came to. The air was heavy except for the occasional tree-ruffling breeze. I knocked and waited. The front light came on. An older couple came to the door, nodded and let me in. They brought me to a tiny kitchen and sat down together with me at a small, round table under a stained glass overhead lamp. The old woman wordlessly prepared cups of tea for each of us. I had no apprehension and waited for them to speak...I had this dream when I was around 12. I had never driven a car before. But, in the dream I was much older. I still wait for this to happen to me someday because I can recall everything so vividly. Sort of David Lynch-y. Twin Peaks-y. Weird...
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