PA
In my dream, I was supposed to fly to a family reunion. I was supposed to buy a ticket at the airport because, for whatever reason, I hadn’t prior. That day, I walked up to the counter and looked at my options on the big wide screen: ILLINOIS PHILADELPHIA LOS ALTOS Pennsylvania Pennsylvania Pennsylvania – my soul directed. So, I bought a ticket to Philadelphia and tucked it in my back pocket. But somehow, in the dream, I ended up at the family reunion against my better judgment. My father was beside me at the party, scooping baked beans onto his paper plate (slowly but surely) and said: “Glad you could make it – glad this was part of your plan.” And I said, “Yeah, thanks. But wanna know what I was going to do?” He said yes and waited. “I was going to text you later and say I missed my flight, but I didn’t miss my flight. The truth would be that I decided to take another flight altogether. And when I got there, to Pennsylvania, I’d tell you every day that I would catch the next flight to the reunion, but I wouldn’t. I would let you ask again and again, and I’d say the same things. I'd tell you I was coming, but I never would. I never planned to and was never going to.” He fixed his beady eyes on me cruelly. He shook his head and adjusted his loaded paper plate. All the while, the reunion was going on. Partygoers scrutinized the food, drank lots and lots, cheered, danced, and did what drunk, middle-aged people do. But at some point during the scene, I instructed my sister to get my duffel out of the back room. She obliged like a younger sibling (born and bred to obey) and slid my bag over undetected. Rushed and paranoid, I took my belongings and headed out of the front door with confidence. I was sure everyone was too drunk, yellow and merry to notice my absence. (When you stand straight and act like you belong – no one questions what you do). So I did just that – and slipped off unbeknownst. Through a door that was wide open and black. I’d finally done it: I pulled off an Irish exit with a plane ticket in my back pocket. Mmm, yes – a ticket to ride. I could finally be invisible. How exciting! To go away forever on a flight to Pennsylvania.
— M