Streetcar to wisteria flowers
Let me tell you a dream that merely thinking about it brings me to happy tears. It was a dream I once had last year that has never left my memory because somehow it had been the best dream I’ve ever had...but it’s odd because I know nothing.
I remember waking up in a Japanese building filled with many Japanese families and most children went to a school called Jun school, their uniforms were burgundy and I befriended a black girl a fish braid. She lived in the building and I DONT rememberer name sadly. But she liked to play with my hair and called me pretty and we just laughed and hugged and had fun running around.
I was living with a Japanese mother, she had two daughters who were my age and a young son around 7-10 years old? His name was pronounced K-oo-nah.
Kuna had a red and blue Spider-Man bed frame and bedsheets. He also had a Spider-Man wrist band toy that shout out coins “webs” his bed was pushed up against the wall beside a big window and at the foot of his bed was a wardrobe with a Mini Tv hanging on the side. He could watch tv in bed if he wanted too.
Me and the Black girl and Kuna decided to go off to school “Jun” (pronounced like the month June) and I saw these great big wisteria covered trees with purple flowers in bloom hanging over us... and a hill there was a green and yellow streetcar, Kuna ran to it and swung around the entrance poles laughing and playing.
Our school uniforms now looked blue and white.
And the black girl she was holding my hand taking me up the hill but tugging me to the wisteria trees while purple flowers flew and fell around us. I have never felt so happy and excited....It’s a little dramatic but I hope heaven is like that, brings me that feeling again.
But I woke up...and I never even learnt her name or understood why the streetcar was just in a hill, no tracks, just grassy fields and the school in the far distance.
I woke up and I’ll never see her or Kuna again. I’ll never see his mother or sisters again. I’ll never see that green and yellow streetcar or feel her hand on my hand gripping tight.
I hold onto this dream with my life. I never have told anyone about this dream because when I talk about it I breakdown into tears. And I don’t even understand how or why the dream has affected me so badly.
