Twas A Dream I've Had...

I was in "my" house and it was full of people. It was getting late and Doc and I and this older lady decided it was time to hit the hay. We were the last ones up and had to climb over sleeping figures to get to the upstairs. After I had changed into a white nightgown, I went into my bedroom. It happened to be the bedroom I had at my parent's house. When I got there, Shawn was asleep next to the old lady, who had lain her head on my favorite pillow.

I began to weep. Doc woke up and asked me what was the matter.

"I have to get up early for work tomorrow and that lady is sleeping in my place!"

"Well, Miss Scarlett," he said, in his best Rhett Butler, "Why don't you go see Ashley Wilkes and tell him all about it."

"I will! I will tell Ashley! Ashley will understand!" I said and ran out of the room weeping. I knew he was teasing me good-naturedly. I was playing along to the fullest.

So I headed down into the basement, which was all white and very well-lit and modern. A grandma and her grandkids were just putting away the PlayStation. I couldn't believe all the people that were at the house.

I gave up trying to get some sleep as I looked to my right and noticed that I was standing in the way of many patrons, who were wandering around the rest of the basement, which just happened to be the public library.

I found Elizabeth and we decided to head to colonial Boston to meet up with Big Orange and his Good Wife. We got into an open carriage. it was drizzling and dark. The driver, who pulled the carriage with a John Deere Tractor and was dressed as Paul Revere, took our money and told us to sit on the bench. We went down the dirt road and I spotted Big Orange and his Good Wife among the other villagers, all of whom were wearing colonial garb. The town itself, though, had the look of Tombstone.

They climbed up into the carriage and I gave Big Orange a bear hug. I released him from the hug, but kept my arm around his shoulder. It was so good to see him and I missed him very much, I didn't want to let him go. We rode to a pavillion and got off the carriage. We made our way to a spot on the grass, where several colonials were sitting on a large tarp. Big Orange lounged on his side, propped up on his elbow with his feet crossed. I saw him look up. My eyes followed his and we took in the sight of a lovely waif of a woman who had just wandered up. I turned my head as something whizzed by it. Big Orange's Good Wife had thrown a slinky at him good and hard to get him to put his tongue back into his head.

"That's how we play it around here," she said.

I took a good look at Big Orange. He now has freckles, I noted. I also noted the time. It was 7:09 a.m. Our plane left Boston at 7:30 a.m. I began to weep again.

"I've got to go but I don't want to!" I said. "Besides, I don't think we'll make our plane, Elizabeth!"

She gathered me up and we made our way down the dirt road. We began to pass several street vendor carts: hot dogs and pretzels. They were "closed" but fully stocked. One of the carriage drivers was sneaking up to one. Apparently, one of the initiation rites in this place was to steal an item of food off of one of the carts without getting caught. He grabbed a hot pretzel. He coaxed us to do the same. Elizabeth helped herself to a hot pretzel, but I demured.

At the end of the row of vendor carts, was a gangplank. We walked onto it and followed it along until it opened up into our hosts house. I looked into their office and the lady was dressed as Marie Antoinette. I told her we need to get to our plane and that we hadn't packed our stuff yet.

She nodded and called over her shoulder to her husband, "Lady Elaine, could you come out here for a moment?"

Her husband came out of the back of the room and there he was, dressed as, not Lady Elaine, but Madame. Then I woke up.