Eyes closed with pillow embraced in a tight hug my dream emerges.
I flip the other way slightly awakened from the bathroom door being shut.
My dream is interrupted. With eyes closed, I hold on to the last visual.
Window open, I hear a car driving into the cul de sac. I return to my dream hungry. It’s almost noon.
I am in a nook with few people around sitting on the counter with their backs turned on me.
A small cafeteria like café, with a glass display where I see a tray of baked lasagna.
Soundly, I hear voices in laughter from the building across the street. Cars are passing by. The night guard’s mobile phone beeps.
Back in my dream I ask for a salad and the cook behind the counter holds up a bag full of lettuce.
I ruffle my feet underneath the sheets and lay on my back. Faintly, I hear my daughter in the living room tidying up her books and school papers for class tomorrow.
Somewhere in between dreaming and sleeping, I think about my other daughter away from home.
I sleep soundly grateful that they are well but never deeply for a mother’s thoughts linger endlessly in sleep between here and there.