During yesterdays mid afternoon under-the-weather slumber, I had a dream distinctly titled The Parka Lottery. Why it was titled like a film or an entry I know not, but even in sleep I knew it would be a good one. The dream opened with a visit to Rebecca and her disgruntled 'tween goth sister (non existent in reality) and their floating house in the middle of a marsh in the Woodlands. The feeling of a floating house was incredible and I kept testing the buoyancy like a child, running from corner to corner and rocking the hell out of each spot. The novelty! Rebecca was trying to make dijon mustard sandwiches but the jar would empty like sand from a broken glass each time the knife dipped in. Nameless goth sister sat sloth-like on the futon, annoyed by our antics.
As the sisters faded away the dream reopened with the appearance of my Uncle Jim, Sara as a child, my Aunty Daryl, my parents and siblings. The light table was stationed in the kitchen like an under-lit island marked with an X. Weird placement. The rules of the lottery were introduced with a pointer stick on a blackboard in the kitchen by someone I didn't know. It was explained that there was a winter parka for each hidden around the floating house. The last person to find their parka was expected to dismantle the light table and use the material to build a raft. The dream ended as I pulled a sleeve of a puffy jacket out from under a baseboard.
I woke to the phone ringing, Rebecca calling.