Usually I forget my dreams, but I woke up shortly after this one so I

still remember it pretty well. It picked up with a conversation we

were having over messages, and I can't remember exactly what you said,
but I can remember the feeling attached, which was that you had some
idea of a change you wanted to make that you believed would make your
life better or more enjoyable.
Then the scene shifts, and we're walking in a city like New Haven, and
it's supposed to be New Haven, but it's not recognizable as New Haven.
You remark that New Haven is too small to be a city, it's really a
large town. We're walking toward the train station in this town or
small city that should be New Haven but doesn't look quite like New
Haven, and we start walking over a bridge, and there's a fence on the
bridge to prevent people from falling over or something, but all the
metal thatching of the fence has been taken out so that it's just
hanging from the frame loosely. and the other side of the fence,
there's a little metal causeway, and under the bridge there's a stream
with not much water. And you walk on the right side of the fence, on
the other side of the road, with nothing to prevent you from falling
if you make the wrong step, and I walk on the left side of the fence,
with the road on my left. And as we're walking, the sun is setting,
and soon the whole scene is illuminated with the warm light of dusk.
We cross safely to the other side of the bridge, and then you walk
through a little embankment with a scattering of trees to the right of
the road, and the light of dusk hits you directly, unimpeded.
Finally, the scene changes yet again, and we're in my room and you
tell me that you just read a book by Roberto Bolao called The Red
Guitar, and I'm stunned that I've never heard of it, and you tell me
that it came up in a class you took, but when you looked at it then,
it looked too melancholy. But when you finally picked it up, you found
that scattered throughout the book there were sentences that made you
laugh.
Then I woke up.