it was a brief dream.  i’d gone to bed late and had my sleep interrupted by my darling son who chose 3am as the perfect time for a screaming fit; the dream probably happened in about 4 seconds.

i was in my sister’s old bedroom (which, for the record, was our attic that had been renovated.  nice and private with a separate staircase leading up to it)  in the house we grew up in on Long Island.  our dearly departed cat henrietta, who i actually wasn’t crazy about in real life, was looking for me.  i didn’t want her to disturb me, so i shut the door to the bedroom to try to keep her out.  she managed to get in anyway, but i wasn’t mad at her, i just walked over to her and was going to chide her for barging in when i startled her and she fell off of the staircase.  in the dream, the staircase was open all the way down to the first floor.  henrietta screamed (literally) and i cringed as i heard her fall and hit the hardwood floor down below with a nasty thud.  i ran downstairs and saw her lying on her back on the floor of the living room.  i bent over her and asked if she was hurt.  she said yes, that she thought something was broken.  i told her to stay still and that i would get help.  i was very upset in the dream, much like if my son was to get hurt.  when henrietta spoke it was very similar to how my son’s voice sounds so i assume this was some kind of a “mommy-symbolic” dream.

hunh.

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