In Your Dreams

I heard the far-away tinkling of breaking glass and sat up in bed.  I rubbed my eyes and looked over at Bill’s empty spot next to me.  Back on the couch again I muttered softly, feeling guilty and thinking, yet again, about losing some weight so I can get my snoring under control.  Yes, I could drop 20 (or 30 or 40) pounds.  And, yes, I snore!  Now you all know.

Anyway, back to the mysterious breaking glass.  I swung my legs off the mattress and stepped to the floor.  I could hear more noises coming from the living room – scraping and thudding and grunting.  I whispered to myself, what in the world is Bill doing out there?

As I made my way down the hall I could see a beam of light sweeping back and forth across the foyer in an erratic pattern.  I wonder if the electricity is out, I thought, turning left into the living room.  Imagine my surprise when I saw two scruffy looking men trying to hoist Mom’s loveseat through the broken dining room window.  I glanced around and saw that, so far, they’d managed to pretty much empty out the living room.  All that was left was her loveseat, which they were trying to push through the window.

“Here, let me help,” I said, walking over and grabbing a hold of one end of the small couch.  “Just don’t mess up our raised garden.”

Together we pushed and strained and then, in a blink, it was gone, along with the two scruffy furniture thieves.  I turned and looked at the nearly empty room, cleared of the 80’s mauve and grey sofa and loveseat and matching misshapen oval ottoman, the three scarred and scratched and mismatched end tables, the heavy yet hideous Romanesque glass and marble coffee table, and the three butt-ugly, garish lamps.  All of it, gone!

I yelled for Bill to call the insurance company and come see the beautiful emptiness.  I twirled with happiness in the middle of the room, shouting joyfully “Thomasville!  Ethan Allen!  Penney’s Home Store!  I’ll be coming to see you soon.”

I could hear Bill calling to me from far away.  Maybe the bathroom?  He spends a lot of time in there.  And when I opened my eyes he was shaking me and telling me to wake up.

“You were talking really loud,” he grumbled, rolling over to go back to sleep.  “Hope it wasn’t a nightmare.”

“Wait, wait,” I said, sitting up in bed.  “You mean it was all a dream?  The ugliness is still in the living room?  We can’t buy beautiful lamps?  We can’t get matching tables.  We can’t go furniture shopping?”

“Not anytime soon,” he said, pulling the covers up to his chin.  “Unless some burglar with really bad taste decides to come and steal it all.  By the way,” he mumbled before falling back to sleep, “Who’s Ethan?”

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