Friday Morning

This morning, I met a girl in a dream.

I was in a car-park, waiting or searching for someone else, but she was there, and we started talking (or maybe the dialogue was just taken as read) and it hurtled past friendly as wakefulness rushed upon me.

I knew before I woke up that I wouldn’t remember her face, if she even had one. But she was nice, and in that slice of dream in which she existed, she liked me.

Sleeping late on Friday morning. Recently, it’s becoming a new social highlight of my week.