Dream, 2nd June, Anonymous

I hated my father as a teenager, but we had come to quite like each other by the time he died, when he was 67 and I was 30. 

Some years later, I had a dream in which he came back to life. In the dream, I knew he had died. And I knew he had only a short time before he would return to death. His body showed no sign of decay, but he was slow and tired. Quiet. His mood depressed. 

I was glad to have had this dream. A chance to see him again.