I Dreamt Last Night of The Dead Child

By Thomas O’Connell

I’m not sure why, it’s not like I knew him well. When I started dreaming, he was there – sitting across from me at some mall food-court. “What are you doing here,” I asked.

“I came to see you.”

“Why?”

“We’ll figure that out together.”

Then he pushed his chair back from the table and left. “Wait,” I called. It’s not like I was still drunk. Like I am the only person who’s ever run a light. Like the city shouldn’t have put in a cross-walk years ago. I woke unsettled. My lawyer says she won’t put me on the stand.

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“i write so that i do not forget…” – the writer

4 thoughts on “I Dreamt Last Night of The Dead Child

    1. and i am honored that you would read, appreciate, & take the time to let me know – thank you. there are not many rewards in this writing life, a kind and encouraging word from a careful reader really makes a difference.

      Liked by 1 person

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