My brother Max is having not dreams, but memories of places and events that aren’t his.
At the same time he can feel others thinking about him. He is a receiver. So am I.
It is one of those odd things that we don’t tell anyone else about.
The memories are a mystery. We’ve compared notes and we can’t figure it out. Who sends us memories from places we’ve never been or memories of things we’ve never done.
The other types of thoughts are straight from a known source.
Max and I stood out on the deck the other night looking into the fog. “She is thinking about me right now. I haven’t seen her in years but she has been thinking about me a lot lately.”
I didn’t tell him to call her or drop by her house. It wasn’t the right time. It wasn’t his call to make. But when she thinks of him he knows it. He never wonders if she loves him or really even cares. It just is what it is. He is flattered and charmed if nothing else. That is it.
I told him about the bridge again. It was a large bridge that fell during rush hour 50 years ago. I wasn’t there but I remember it from the eyes of a young man who was in a blue car. He was in the water. A woman helped him out. His wife was frantically calling on the phone to see if anyone knew where he was. That is all I remember. I thought it might have been from a book or a movie, but the memory was like my own.
Max dreams of maps and lying as still as death on the bottom of the ocean. I dream of cars falling off of narrow mountain roads and big ugly fish.
We don’t talk much to others about our dreams and phantom thoughts and rogue memories.
I’m sure you have things like that too – another life built on fog and emotion and strange things that fly by like ghost ships or long forgotten songs.
No matter what it is always good to have someone to talk to, who doesn’t think you’re nuts.
Max left this morning before the sun came up. I will miss him, but he’ll know when I’m thinking about him.
~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman