I awake with a start, my mouth closed, yet my jaw is hinged open. The dream hangs in the air, like dust particles, impossible to reassemble. I concentrate on the white noise of the machine that filters the air trying to re-enter the dream. Too late. I am awake and my mind is wandering to the air filter to wonder if the dream might be trapped inside.
As I sip my coffee I try to evaluate my state of mind. I feel disturbed and a little angry. It was the dream. I don't know how I know that, but I do. "Mother, are you here?" I say it aloud. She does not answer, she is hiding. Maybe she is trapped with the dream in the filter.
Do I believe in Spirits? Do you?