I am in a dormitory like room. There are other adults I don't know and I am sitting on a thin bunk style bed with crisp white sheets and a think pink blanket.
A little girl approaches me. She looks to be around seven.
What is your name?" I ask her.
"Refrigerator," she says. She does a silly happy twirl and asks me, "Do you want to play?"
"No, Refrigerator. I have to find my passport and plane ticket because I'm already late to catch the train to the airport." I hear myself and I panic. Do I even know where anything is?
I see a large canvas suitcase at the end of my bed and find my passport and paperwork in the first pouch I look in.
I head for the door and Refrigerator waves goodbye to me. I wave back.
When I wake up, I realize that in the thirty plus years I have had this familiar recurring anxious dream that I am lost and I have no idea where to find my tickets or passport, for the first fricking time EVER, I've found them on the first try. Right there in my suitcase pouch.
Is it possible I'm no longer lost?
Or maybe that's what happens if you meet a little twirly girl named Refrigerator.