My third grade crush and her kids run into me selling wares at a craft fair. It’s the pandemic so I can’t touch anything to help them pick something out, but her small kid manages to find a very special item. I take the opportunity to sell it to her at a discount and I’m overjoyed to have reconnected and, somehow, closed the circle from when I bought her chocolates on Valentine’s day — back in third grade.
Amusement park is closing soon. They don’t kick you out, they just close all the exhibits one by one. Left almost alone in a vast fortress-like space, wooden piles driven into the ground separating rare bird enclosures and such. Like a zoo, but oddly not centered on the animals.
I conspire with Mickey in a small bathroom, but it takes a long time to convince each other of our plan. We leave across a wooden drawbridge, hanging out with shady night-time mob characters in a room like a movie-theater lobby across the way. The theater seats are often moved back and forth, front to back, per the command of an authoritative fit woman at the front (reminds me of a muscular yoga teacher I had in college).
Constructing an ersatz set of wings, I launch off the side of a tall, steep, rocky cliff. The kids I’m with think I can’t do it, but I know I can, my arms are just skinny and I’m nerdy (I’m like Billy the blue Power Ranger). Soon, I fly away from the all-too-3D cliff and over wooden bridge — possibly the same drawbridge I crossed with Mickey earlier.
Woke up in bed at my wife’s dad’s house. I didn’t think I remembered any dreams, then I remembered there was a good significant one in the middle of the night. That was the one with my third grade crush, and everything flowed naturally after letting go while focusing on them.