I am on an old city bus. The kind where you sit on benches that face the center aisle. I am sitting on one side of the bus and an older heavyset black woman is sitting across from me. As I’m sitting there I suddenly realize that I have lost my wallet. I search my pockets and my bag but can’t find it and I’m getting more and more upset. I look up at the woman across the aisle and now see that she is holding my wallet. It is clearly my wallet. It is exactly the same size and color as my wallet. She is looking at it and I can see all my pictures in there. I get up and walk across the aisle and tell the woman that I know she stole my wallet. I stand there pointing at her and accuse her of stealing from me. I’m shouting now and insist that she return my wallet to me. She doesn’t say a thing and hands me the wallet. I’m feeling righteous as I take a look at the wallet to be sure that nothing is missing. As I open it up I know immediately that I’ve made a mistake. It is clearly not my wallet. The pictures inside are of her sweet faced grandchildren.
I wake up.
I had this dream during college. I think I was reading Flannery O’Connor’s Everything That Rises Must Converge.