Dreaming
Catching Cars
“What if these were all a dream and we’re still alive, seeing faces of people we see everyday but don’t remember enough to recognize while we’re awake?”
She faces the window, and I am afraid that we have gone back three years, strangers contented with comfortable silence. The vehicle we are in moves swiftly, without pausing as it did earlier to accommodate us; I try to distract myself, as she does. It is difficult.
“But then that means that we never really met.”
I somehow convince myself that her manner was one of sadness, though the words were spoken in an indifferent monotone.
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