I dreamt Covid was over, or maybe we were in pre-Covid times. You wrote me a letter and a package showed up a short time later with your luggage filled with t-shirts. I could feel the weight of them in my hands and smell you on them. Later I was at The Roxy in ATL, the only indoor venue you and I had ever been to. I was sitting on the railing leading into the standing room area perched with my phone in my hand pressed against the top of my thigh. It vibrate against my palm and your name flashed across the screen. I didn’t say anything, but clearly heard you say, “I’m here.” I walked through the double doors of the venue and faced where Sushi Rock and Roll used to be only to see the area just outside of customs at Hartsfield. You were walking towards me in your dress blues.
And then I woke up.
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