Red

I lived in a mansion, feeding ducks and watching carp swallow each other, like always.

You, you were there too, clocking my time. I had to spend ten minutes in each room, sleeping on the crimson Moroccan carpets, till the spot I lay on became circles of white. You were taller, your chestnut brown hair matted over, and instead of your huge honk of a nose, you had a goldfish, wiggling and prettily insistent that you please, please put her in water.

Nothing else happened in the dream, but I do remember us going back in time to my father's vegetable patch. There, we picked malunggay and squash, cut the curlicues off the climbing vines, and helped a spider named Ogg spin his web.