Toosdai and the Dream of Horses

I went to sleep last night in a fit. I dug half-moons into my palms and cried crocodile tears. I was frustrated with my current unemployment, and the seemingly endless stream of resumes that have been sent out into the ether, never to return. My ladylove Leila comforted me, my best friend Richard talked me down, and my mother diluted my worries. But what I needed was sleep.

This morning, I had a dream that I was riding a light brown horse with a red bridle. I jumped on, bareback, and took off. I gripped the reins and eventually the horse's sandy mane, for fear of being thrown off. We trotted past other horses and riders, and eventually past a cowboy-hatted woman who I assumed was the owner of the ranch. She stroked the horse's face, and fed him raspberries with powdered sugar from a glass goblet. I remember thinking, "What does it matter, how my life is at this moment? I can always ride a horse."

I woke to a boy wanting English muffins much to early in the morning. As he whispered in my ear, I wrapped my hand around his fingers and could feel his pulse. It felt like his heart was in my palm.

Leila's sister made graham cracker blueberry pancakes, and Leila made home-made whipped cream. Take a look at Leila's blog, Foodie Festivus, for her account of the mountain of whipped cream dream (coming soon!).