Sweets

April 14, 2020 | Santos, São Paulo | 40-49 years

In my dream, the quarantine was even stricter than my country currently decrees. In the dream narrative, my wife and I were on the street, buying sweets that were delicacies made by a famous cook (such a candy store doesn't exist in my real world, I don't recognize any real correspondent for the street we were on, either the renowned owner). There was a sense of urgency, a rush to get home, an embarrassment of being outdoors, as if we were in great danger of contagion and also violating a very important collective agreement. The sweets took time to get ready and packaged for delivery and I felt extremely impatient and irritated by the situation. When night came, it got dark and the street became deserted, the doors of the candy store closed, with the promise of an employee that in a few minutes my sweets would be delivered. What was it about those candies that could justify so much waiting? Alone in front of the closed doors, we were approached by a young homeless person, who asked us for money and I could clearly see that he was undecided about assaulting us or moving on. I sharply asked him not to harm us and he chose to leave. When the sweets finally arrived, there were only two. But, damn it, there were three of us! Who had made the mistake? I no longer knew if I had ordered it wrong or if the mistake was from the store staff. I gave up the third candy because all I wanted to do was leave. My wife, who is not used to drive a car, awkwardly controlled it, while I tried to accommodate my mother in the back seat holding the box with the two candies. The car was a mess! Full of suitcases, papers and garden soil (???) even in the trunk, a lot of this mess fell down the street. When I woke up, we were already on the way home and I was exhausted.