A dream

t was wet. A man in a weather proof coat arrived home, he had just taken a largish size dog to a park nearby and he removed his wet jacket and hang it on the wall. A woman rushed in. She was complaining that earlier, when she ran in the park, there ought to be some special fuel added to her shoes, so that she could run faster, and increase stability. As of late, they had invented a special fuel that one could add to trail running shoes to increase performance and reduce slippage during severe weather conditions. She ought to buy a new pair and test them out, she said. The man took her hand and led her to bathroom, and told her that she should shower immediately. She was slightly resentful of being told what to do, even though he was right.

As she was turning on the faucet, she remembered that the cake in the oven was about to be done. So she told him to check. It was not a cake per se, it was a bread pudding of a sort. But he did not correct her.

Five more minutes and it will be done. He said. The house was filled with the aroma of freshly baked goods: chocolate, pecan and molasses.

The rain had picked up. A storm was coming.