Blurred
While sleeping, enfolded in her dream, she is a teacher instructing a class of children all of some indistinguishable age (as is usually the case with dreams: general rather than specific). So she’s mumbling a bit in her sleep and asks for a piece of chalk, sticks out her hand and says “Can you please pick up the chalk." She says this in real life, out loud, while emotionally locked in slumber; the gesture bleeds through from her sleep. A child, a boy named Nathaniel, extracts himself from his desk shyly and hands her the piece of chalk: in real life, as he is awake next to her witnessing the somnambulistic scene, he plays along and places an invisible piece of chalk in her actual palm. She says “thank you,” as she is sleeping there and, he imagines, in her dream as well she must have mumbled the same thing to the young child. Then she starts writing on the chalkboard, which, in real life, was the few inches of pillow just beside her right cheek. He could not make out what she was spelling, however she did speak clearly: “You cannot eat the strawberries just yet kids, they are still grapes”. Apparently she was informing the dream-children and real-him that the strawberries had not ripened yet, that they were still just grapes and, therefore, inedible. Then, still asleep, she started humming a song that he had mistaken to be “Let it Be” by the Beatles. Upon waking she corrects him: it was in fact a reggae song and the school she taught at was called “Mellow School”, she is adamant about these facts. He looks down, shrugs, and says “Oh,” like he should have known better. He then asks which child handed her the piece of chalk, hoping to see who he would be in her dreamworld, and she told him about Nathaniel. Then she added smilingly, "Oh and that boy is so bad, but I like him!"
She fell back asleep immediately after he left the bed to shave.
discarded note: 2003
