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mariokiefer

What Dreams May Come


And this is why I drink . . .

RIC: Good morning.

ME: Good morning.

RIC: How’d you sleep?

ME: Very well, if you don’t count the million times I got up to go to the bathroom. How ‘bout you?

RIC: Not so well.

ME: I’m sorry? Why? Was it because of my getting up and out of bed every hour?

RIC: No. I didn’t even notice.

ME: Gee, thanks.

RIC: I had a terrible nightmare, though.

ME: Really? What about?

RIC: It was terrible.

ME: It can’t have been that bad.

RIC: It was horrific.

ME: Wow.

RIC: Absolutely ghastly.

ME: It must have been pretty bad.

RIC: It was horrendous, dreadful, awful, atrocious, grim, and grisly.

ME: Don't run of adjectives.

RIC I am still shaking from it.

ME: What happened?

RIC: We were sitting at the table and you served a dish that was covered. I asked what it was and you said that you made pasta.

ME: That doesn't sound so bad.

RIC: Wait for it. As I envisioned the spaghetti bolognese that I knew was hiding under the cloche my excitement grew and my mouth began to water. The mere thought of those tender noodles cooked perfectly al dente and covered in that sumptuous meat sauce with all of the delicious spices and vegetables that I knew had marinated in it, well, I thought that I was going to die from the anticipation.

ME: Still not so bad.

RIC: Then you pulled out a bowl of fresh grated parmesan to top the pasta.

ME: All good so far. You like Parmesan.

RIC: Wait, there's more. You placed a small Caprese salad next to the plate.

ME: You love Caprese.

RIC: I'm not done. From the oven you retrieved freshly toasted bread that was absolutely dripping in garlic butter and Italian spices.

ME: Just the way you like it. I try to make you happy.

RIC: I was so excited that I thought I was going to pee my pants.

ME: I still don’t understand. That doesn’t sound like a nightmare.

RIC: It was a nice dream -- up to that point. But what you did next got me so angry.

ME: What could I have done?

RIC: I don’t think I had ever felt that kind of rage.

ME: Perhaps, you overreacted in the dream.

RIC: I am still mad at you now. I am not sure that I will ever get over it.

ME: Perhaps, you are overreacting now.

RIC: Don't speak to me that way!

ME: Sorry, but whatever it was that I did, remember it was only a dream. I haven’t done anything at all so there’s no cause to be angry with me.

RIC: I know, but still . . .

ME: What did I do in the dream?

RIC: You lifted the cloche, and when I looked down, I saw that you had made fettuccini instead of spaghetti.

ME: Open the wine.

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