I Fell into a dream. And then I was free to leave it. Hamm and I returned to the ultimate state, the limitlessness of the Dream world where we belong. Together.
Who are we? Who are the Dreamers? Who knows? Our life’s mission is as unclear to us as yours is in this dimension. We know when we have a mission to accomplish. We know when we screw up. And we know when we love one another. Nothing more.
Think about it: God lives an existential life, the ultimate dream creator. God is probably the best creator we’ve got! But even God doesn’t know how it’s all going to turn out.
Hamm says either life is the dream or death is. Fallers enter the dream to experience life, or to leave it behind.
We know as little about it as you do.
Chapter Five
I look up at the DCI building, blue-tinted window after window sparkling in the ruthless glare of the Florida sun. Sweat beads on my forehead, and I blot it with the cuff of my long-sleeved blouse. I am attempting to look professional, but I keep perspiring, even after I enter the marble lobby and ride the elevator to the twelfth floor in air-conditioned comfort.
It is a Wednesday morning in June, and I have a job interview at DreamCorp International. I also have a bad case of déjà vu.
My future employer is tall, tan, blond, and attractive. He has a really nice set of deep blue eyes. He asks me some questions about my résumé, and I answer as honestly as one can in a job interview. He appears to like what he sees.
After he agrees to hire me, Charlton Hamm says, “You look great in that black skirt.”
“Thanks,” I say. “Am I gonna be your dream girl?”
He smiles. His teeth flash bright, and I can almost taste the peppermint on his breath. Then he walks around the conference table and leans down to whisper in my ear. His minty breath tickles my skin, and I feel moisture trickling between my breasts.
“Our art director has taken on some seriously god-awful loans and somebody dark and sleazy has offered him a lot of money for some pretty powerful software we’ve been developing. Keep your eye on him, Adrianna. But only your eye.”
I hold up a hand to stop him from continuing, and he clasps it, pulls it to his heart.
“You’ll always be my dream girl, baby,” he says.
And then he kisses me.
Biography
Mickey J. Corrigan lives and dreams in the lush tropics of South Florida. Also writing as Virginia Aronson, Mickey is the author of more than thirty books on topics as diverse as extraterrestrials and healing, nutrition and wellness, creativity and mental illness. Recent books include J’Adoube (I Adjust), a collection of short fiction (World Audience, 2011), and Tropical Diagnoses, a poetry chapbook (Finishing Line Press, 2011). Writing is her Dream Job.
You can visit Mickey at www.virginiaaronsonwriter.com.
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