We meet walking up the lane, there’s a dry stone wall beside us.
He inclines towards me and, not for the first time, patiently reminds me.
It’s Leroy Rev. Mugo.
Err. You’re dead aren’t you?
I know the test. I poke his arm.
Crikey! he does have a body.
We continue chatting up the lane avoiding the subject.
He’s changed, a little older, content I’d say.
Later we are sitting in a row.
Larry…no sorry Leroy is sitting one down from me.
It’s definitely him and he’s alive.
Then morning came and I got up and went about my day.
Dreams like this, of departed friends coming alive, are not uncommon.
2 thoughts on “Leroy Was Here”
That’s happened to me twice, very clearly, dreaming of close friends who’d recently died. In both cases, there was a certain amount of guilt or concern on my part that I could have done something more but in reality couldn’t. In both dreams, I knew the people concerned were dead and in both they’d somehow come to say goodbye. Each time I woke up with a sense of closure surrounding those deaths which persists. The mind is a funny, wistful thing.
Interesting how the mind works through stuff while the rest is asleep. Yes, I know what you mean about coming to say goodbye.