This dream starred the actress Anna Kendrick and Bobby, one of my grade school friends. We were interviewing to teach at a small complex that consisted of three schools. The oldest was also the smallest, constructed of stone; it might’ve started as a church. The other two were more recent, probably from the fifties and sixties, and made of brick. The three were huddled together. The room where we were interviewing was nearby, but not in any of the three schools. Anna thought that the oldest stone building was really posh and historic, I agreed. I had a big wedding portfolio with a couple of homemade linen calla lilies tied together with a bow. The artist’s, Lois, business card was affixed to the inside back cover. I think we all got the job because I was sitting in the passenger seat of Bobby’s car. He said that we should have a celebratory drink, something feminine like white wine, and I laughed and said that the occasion called for whiskey, brandy, or scotch. There was a garden party at night, and Anne Rice was the entertainment. She was dressed half naked like Cher. Her long cone plastic skirt was transparent, and she wore white hot pants beneath her matching bandeau top. Young and slim, her hair was cut into a bob. Her song was atrocious. Everybody agreed, just awful. Was it French? I don’t know, but it was bad. I was setting up my classroom, both Anna and Bobby were there. There was a paper flower hanging by the clock. That’s when I woke up. It wasn’t a bad dream.
In the works: Dana's Dreams Three Revenge of the Dream Hog
