by LJ Frank

 

 

 

 

 

It was 10 a.m. It was raining outside. My psychiatrist and I were sitting on love seats across from each other in her bookshelf lined office. A low bulky craftsman coffee table with a couple stacks of books laying on top was situated between us.

I had been meeting with her for over two years and on this day spoke to her concerning an existential angst about perceived reality, my failing eyesight, inevitable death, and a disquieting abstractness and absurdity coupled with a haunting dream.

“Tell me about your dream.”

“The dream,” I sighed. “A friend set me up on a date. He reminded me of a lottery drawing and suggested I buy a ticket on the way to the hotel I would be staying, and after checking in was to go to the hotel entrance and wait for a limousine to pick me up. I was to be blindfolded with a sleep mask because of the particular woman involved and her status.”

The psychiatrist nodded. “Interesting.”

“It was strange. After dropping off my things in the room, I then walked down to the hotel entrance and waited. A limousine pulled up, a driver got out and opened the rear door and handed me a blindfold to wear. We drove to a harbor marina. I was led arm in arm aboard a boat where I was greeted by a woman in the boat’s main cabin. She asked me to keep the blindfold on.”

“And then?” My psychiatrist asked.

“I asked why the mystery.”

She said, “It’s for both our privacy. What you don’t know can’t hurt you or me.”

“But…I started to say when she kissed me, then undressed me and pressed her naked body against mine. We made passionate love losing track of time. I collapsed afterwards and lost consciousness. And yet as I was lying there my mind detected a splashing sound. I gasped for air. My body vanished as if it never existed.”

“Was there anything else?”

“In the middle of that night a mysterious woman entered my hotel room and took my lottery ticket that was sitting on a table next to the bed. I then woke up, my body was wet.”

“Remarkable. There are several possible interpretations.”

I nodded.

She then uncrossed her legs, adjusted her skirt, reached over to a book on the table, opened it, retrieved a piece of paper, and handed it to me… “Is this the lottery ticket?”