The Quaalude Dream

October 7, 2009

I am pregnant, maybe 5 months. I’m walking around with my friend Kate, doing nothing. I’m wearing a shirt that does not reveal my belly. She feels my belly. She is impressed. I suck my stomach in and she feels it again. This time, it is more pronounced. She remarks more emphatically. I’m very happy. I haven’t even taken a pregnancy test, because I’m so sure.

I’m walking around with my mom. She feels my belly. My dad is there. We don’t talk about it. I think about bringing it up but I dont. I imagine him holding the baby, that he will be very proud, prouder than he thinks.

I want to get high. I go to Angel’s house. (He lived next door to me when I lived at the residential facility for women living with AIDS. He was Jamaican). He gives me a quaalude, a pot seed and some other pill. I leave his house, put them all in my mouth and chew them up. Then, I feel guilty that I am getting high while I’m pregnant and take half of the mashed up stuff out of my mouth. I save it in my pocket.

I’m in a hotel, walking through a ballroom. There is a presentation in the room which is filled with students from the last school I worked at, except they are white and well off. One of them is slacking. I reprimand her. Tell her to get out her materials. I keep walking and decided to sit in the sun. I am high, but not too high. I am pleased with my responsible decision.

I’m in a room with a balcony and two people with whom I am friends. It is raining outside with the sun shining. Suddenly, lightening strikes a tree outside our window and a limb begins to fall in slow motion. One of the girls reaches outside the window to guide the limb down to the ground. I’m scared that the tree limb will kill me or hurt the baby, but she brings it down safely.

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