I dreamt. I thought.

Those bizarre images and situations of dreams. Those curious moments right after awaking from a dream.

I dreamt that when I opened the refrigerator and lifted the aluminum foil which covered a watermelon half, I found it coated in thick white mold.

I dreamt that a bespectacled young man in my French class accused me of ignoring him because he had been going to my church for several weeks and I hadn't noticed him.

I thought about why people commonly have the last names Black, White, Brown, Green and Gray, but never Red, Yellow, Orange, Blue or Purple?

I thought of absolutely horrible poems and one cringingly embarrassing short story I had written in a Creative Writing class as a sophomore. I then thought of the crush I had on the dorky instructor. Once I addressed him as Mr. and his last name and he insisted that I call him by his first name because Mr. and his last name made him think someone's talking to his father. He also called William Shakespeare "Willy the Shake." I also wrote him a letter of recommendation for him to receive a teaching award in the department, and he won. I also realize now that he used my obvious crush on him to his advantage.