ON THE WAY BACK FROM THE DOCTOR’S OFFICE, MY mom
asked me if I’d written back to Dante. “Not yet.”
“I think you should write to him.”
“Mom, I’m your son, not a suggestion box.” She shot me a look.
“Keep your eyes on the road,” I said.
When I got back home, I took out my journal and this is what I wrote:
If dreams don’t come from nowhere, then what does it mean that I ran over Dante in my dream? What does it mean that I had that dream again? Both times I was staring at Ileana when I ran over Dante. Okay, this is not good.
The air is leaking out.
I don’t want to think about this.
I can either think about the dreams I have about my brother or I can think about the dreams I have about Dante.
Those are my choices?
I think I should get a life.
