a dream i had last week

i was a servant in a deserted manor shrouded by fog. the mistress of the house returned from a long absence and brought her daughter, who'd grown into a fine young lady. i peered through a crack in the door at their heated conversation about the upcoming dinner party. the mistress is disappointed in her daughter for never being a proper hostess, and for always giving her a difficult time in selecting her outfits.

i remembered all the fanciful floral headdresses the mistress wore at the parties over the years, but the daughter always wore her usual violets. it was peculiar, how their floral headdresses were innate to their characters. the mistress wore a cap of slender, light green blossoms that completely covered her hair and jingled like earrings every time she swung her head to snap at her daughter. their dresses were also remarkable, long pleated robes with sari-like borders and cuffs, light japanese shades of green and fuschia.

i had enough of the argument, so i stepped out into the gardens, where my husband - 17 and as young as me - welcomed me. He wore a world war II pilot's jumpsuit. he was a ghost. we strolled through the gardens, where he introduced me to other ghosts in the garden, all of them charming. finally, he gave me a drink - a cranberry juice cocktail, as we walked toward his airplane, a world war I bomber. there was a copilot's seat in the rear but he invited me to squeeze into the pilot's seat (oh what an obvious feminist metaphor).

the thing is, as soon as i joined him, i too became a ghost in the plane. and when we took off, the plane became a ghost. and we flew and flew until we reached a field of tall purple and gold wildflowers. we landed among them, got out and stood in awe of how they reached above our heads. we just stood there looking skyward amid the wildflowers, the plane hidden and forgotten.