I dreamed of Milla Jovovich. But it was a strange dream. Rather than tell it in narrative form I will just describe a few sights and a couple moments.
A flat concrete expanse 200+ yards across and as wide as could be, dividing the Massachusetts mainland from Cape Cod (the peninsula-like part of Massachusetts that extends into the Atlantic Ocean). A groove in the middle, further signifying the division. You could drive across it usually, but at hight tide, the expanse was awash in ocean water that rolled in from the shore.
A streetcar ride, again in New England. Looking out the window of the streetcar at the passing backyards of Brookline-esque townhouses, and noticing that in one particular yard — a yard as high up as a train station platform, and quite tony — stood Milla Jovovich, who was hugging and kissing a bald man with gray hair ’round the edges, wearing a beige trenchcoat on this rainy, drizzly day.
Overhearing on the radio or tv news, while still on a transport of some kind, that Milla Jovovich was in town visiting a male companion. Me remarking that that was exactly what I’d seen only a few minutes before. Feeling sad that she was with an older man, while resignedly respecting her choice.
I awoke at this point and found myself in that in-between state of consciousness where one would find oneself quite dizzy if one were to try to stay awake. So I put on my sleep mask and tried to go back asleep, and dreamed of narrow, twisty hallways, choked with stray clothing and, lower class children who were surprised there was a white guy knocking about. I tried to get out. Not a good dream.