Marvin

I think of Marvin often even though he’s been gone for 31 years now. As I reread this 9-year-old entry I re-dreamed it as well. Of all the memories I have of Marvin, this is the only one that makes me sad.

pixelated texan

And in this dream I had a dream…

It is a crisp, clean and warm Spring day.  No clouds mar the amazingly blue East Texas sky.  Marvin and I are wearing t-shirts and shorts because we can; in another month the heat and humidity will demand it.

We have left his house and are now driving down a quiet, country road in his rather large convertible.  Rich, a friend of his, is working outside his house as we pass and Marvin calls to him, though not stopping.  Thirty seconds or so later I interrupt the still talking Marvin to ask him why he is, in fact, still talking.  It is obvious Rich can no longer hear him.

In an instant I know the reality of my situation.  I know I am dreaming and that knowledge alone should have awakened me, yet I am still in the dream.  So I ask…

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