The December Dream – by Charlie Macias

She and I had a typical nutty conversation at lunch. She was my colleague at work and this was a usual routine. The topics went all over the place. We came to talk about dreams. I was given a dream challenge.

I remarked that I could never remember my dreams. I could remember dreaming, but not the content. She suggested that I will myself to remember my next dream. Each night this week I should give myself a little suggestion as I go to sleep: I will remember tonight’s dream. I was to do it every night until I actually dreamed.

So I gave it a go.

That first night was rough. I was not able to fall asleep. I tossed and turned. I remember looking at the clock and it was 2 AM.

Then I fell asleep.

I must have because I awoke to the morning light. And I could remember my dream! Half-awake, I smiled.

The dream I had concerned someone’s December birthday - a young woman’s birthday. It was a sad occasion since most of her friends and family forgot it. You see, between Thanksgiving, Xmas and New Year’s everyone is so busy. A birthday that falls in December just doesn’t get the same attention as one earlier in the year.

The dream was weird because it was like I was looking into this woman’s world, but not participating. Yet I felt her sadness at being forgotten and I felt bad for her.

I woke up and smiled that I remembered my dream, but I was not so happy that it was a sad dream.

Anemone Anyone? – by Charlie Macias

All the expert chefs and restaurant owners told me it was time to move on. So I picked a new spot to start over, shipped my stuff ahead and went on a little side trip. I thought back on the fateful meeting. All the usual faces were there. Most of them sitting there, hands folded on the table looking like they just ate something  sour, couldn’t smile even if you’d told them they’d just won the lottery.

They asked for fresh new ideas. I ran with my shrimp enchiladas proposal. It was just something that came to me in a dream I once had.  They didn’t react. They just sat there. What?!! Did they want me to jump on the table and dance a jig for them?!!  I wanted to shake them. Wake up, this is a good idea!!!

I got lost on my little side trip. I thought I was pretty good at navigating the territory. I must have done some wandering.  I thought I was circling back to my original location, but not quite. Fortunately, I ran into some nice folks that set me on the correct path.

They were a couple that ran a spa and tourist center. They had escaped the rat race and purchased a spot to share with visitors their love of the reef, the squid and the octopus. I sat with them at lunch one day and told them part of my story. I mentioned my enchiladas. They said I could come back sometime and try it out on them. If they liked it maybe they’d add it to their menu.

It was no guarantee, but at least they were willing to give me a chance. 

It’s Not Maria - by Charlie Macias

 

I believe her name is Monica, Millicent --or maybe Maple Springs.

It’s probably Melinda.

What I know about her is not real

 She glides above the gardens on a glorious summer day

I can’t catch her

She doesn’t want to be caught

I try and she laughs at me

That beautiful laugh

One day one man will win her over

And we will call that bliss or love or luck or fate.

Something official.

One Last Frozen Gasp – by Charlie Macias

This is not a happy tale. For many years Doris confused me with this painting. I couldn’t figure out what she was portraying in this simple winter scene.

The reality is that our main character has become trapped in the snow…out in the wild…no way out…no rescue.  She is all alone. She went for a winter stroll out in the country. Things turned tragic when an unforeseen snow storm hit quick and hard.

As her body goes numb she becomes delirious.  This picture is her last vision. She wishes she were in a warm house with the snow pilling-up outside. Notice how the house is barren just like the barren landscape outside. Notice how her hair is transforming into snow piles just like the ones outside.

She imagines herself a countess or some sort of royalty. It’s as if she is fighting this death still and being royalty offers her an extra measure of protection.  She does not deserve to die this tragic way. It is much too common.

Think I’m way off on this one?

Take a look at her locket!