Trespassing
I interrupted her and
Demanded how she knew
I told her something I had never said.
You did tell me,
She answered.
You spoke it in a dream.
I scoffed
But was curious.
What was the dream about?
She paused the kind of pause
That always makes me think she didn’t hear.
Just as I am about to repeat my question,
She starts. It is so annoying.
Oh, you know how dreams are. Hard to hold on to.
You try to impose something familiar onto them
That was never there
But before long they vanish
Like the sound of a jet passing overhead.
I remember there was a dog. Not our dog.
Just a dog.
And that you broke my heart.
We were quiet for a long time after that.
Then she added
Bad dreams. They don’t fade.
Silence defeated us again and it left me to wonder
About everyone I had ever known and
How many private,
Sleep-filled moments
I had invaded.
Unbidden.
• • •
Stephen Price writes and teaches writing in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. He is particularly interested in helping late bloomers, those who have taken up writing late in life after they have finished their careers. His poetry and fiction have appeared in The Militant Grammarian, Passengers Journal, 365tomorrows, The Alexandra Writers Centre and The Downtime Review. The editors of The Downtime Review nominated his story for a Pushcart Prize.