I walked in a world, I remembered. Similar to ours, yet different. People strolled together and chatted, laughed, heads flung back in abject hysteria; yet, oddly, no sound emerged from their throats.
I passed one couple, arms linked together. They faced each other, chatting soundlessly together, and their lips smiled but their eyes screamed, and their hands clenched together in tight fists made of impotence.
I woke up, drenched in sweat, crying and not sure why.
As I dressed, got into my car, drove to work--as I sat at my desk and started working--I couldn't shake the dream.
And I spent my day on the phone, offering sweet promises to hopeless pleas. And on the way home, a desperate man performed for money, but no one paused to glance.
And I turned on the TV and listened to two politicians argue, neither listening to the other.
And wondered if I still was dreaming.