In my dream last night you made this paper airplane that was unbelievably sleek and origami-like. It could fly for unthinkable distances, but then always when it reached the edge of the forest it would turn all the way around and then fly back, all the way back to where we were standing. It wasn't creepy or mechanical it was just in the design. Like a boomerang, but not as eerie. It was, of course, making the kids pretty excited. There were kids and parents, lots of students around. We were at the frisbee golf course but someone was holding class there. It could have been me; I'm rarely a very on-the-ball teacher in my dreams.
Then I glanced into your airplane and saw that you had written a long long handwritten letter to me. That the airplanes were just a kind of ruse for you to get the message to me in a way that no one else would notice. I was delighted of course. Nobody writes letters any more. And I still love them. (Why?! I asked myself, looking down at that folded beautiful missive in the dream, Why don't *I* send letters any more?!) And this letter was clearly pages and pages of neatly handwritten, thoughful verbal perambulation. And all folded into this one super-flying airplane. Secret messages + Long letters? Right up my alley.
But the trick was that I had to read the letter on the sly. Because if it was the kind of letter that I could just read publicly? You wouldn't have gone to all the trouble. And trust me, part of me was looking for that opportunity, but you may not have noticed, because the other part of me? Actor that I am was working hard to make sure that no one else realized that I was trying to read a letter. I was just flying paper airplanes! Just like everybody else! No big deal! How cool are these airplanes!?
The problem is? I woke up before I ever got to unfold it. So....if you think of sending it again....I'll be sure to read it much more quickly. I promise.