An odd thing happened this morning…
The first thing I remember is waking, gratefully. Moments before I was caught in a nightmare: Chicago was engulfed in thick black smoke and flames. People on the train were murmuring, “They’ve done it again.” And I was stuck between home and downtown, not knowing whether to turn back or go to work. D was with me, but disappeared to make a phone call, upsetting me. I remember a tall building burning in this dream, streaming with black smoke from blackened windows. I remember fear. Then, awake I rubbed my eyes, felt for my sweet man to reassure me of reality, and went back to sleep.
Later, back in reality and walking to work in the rain, I suddenly found myself at the site of the October 17 county building fire – the blaze which I witnessed on a walk to a bar that night. Two things struck me: the crosses and flowers laid in memoriam at the blocked off door, and the blackened, charred section of windows about two-thirds up. And I realized that I never walk up Washington to work. I usually walk a block south, on Madison. But today I felt capricious and desired a change in my routine.
Chilled, I walked on and wiped raindrops from my face.
Does it mean something? Not really. Only that the human subconscious – my human subconscious – is a strange thing indeed.