The Day Dreamer

The dog wouldn’t walk.

It just sat there adamantly refusing to budge. Pauline saw the mutt as a metaphor. It was a vestige of a past relationship that wouldn’t stop haunting her.

She dreamt about James, relived that time he took her up the mountain. She would return to the summit almost daily, filling up the liminal moments of life. She thought about being above the clouds while she was doing laundry, while waiting for a bus, while going to the bathroom. She hated it.

Why would her mind torture her so? The worst part was that she could no longer tell whether that trip to the top was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Come on, pup!” She tugged at the leash without any result.

“Come onnnnnn…” She drew out the last syllable and instantly regretted it, because a man passing by at that exact moment, shot her a look over his shoulder.

They made brief eye contact and she was embarrassed. Pauline was embarrassed easily, and James would often tease her to make her turn red. Now, looking back on it, she also couldn’t tell if she liked this or not.

The dog just sat there, like a fat little buddha on the sidewalk and stared at her.

“Let’s walk,” she said and pulled the leash to no avail.

She felt her cell phone buzz and as she took it out, she pictured the mountain again, much to her chagrin this time.

It was her mom.

She ignored the text, but assumed it said something to the extent of “hope you’re ok, honey. Just checking in. Why don’t you come by for dinner soon?”

When she had her visions of the summit, she would always alter one thing. It was her psychiatrist’s who suggested it. The doctor thought it might be therapeutic to gradually shift away from the day dream that was holding her hostage towards a positive, lucid dream where she was in control.

She was not in control. That damn dog still wouldn’t move. She sighed heavily, and leaned over to pick the animal up.

The dog farted loudly, again just as a handsome man passed by.

“God dammit!” she said. “It wasn’t me!”

The handsome stranger smiled and winked. And as she shoved the leash into her pocket, she saw James in her mind's eye and pictured him as a stubborn, furry, fat, farting dog.