The Los Angeles of Dreams

My dad, my mom, my wife, and I had driven to Los Angeles. But there was a problem with the car, so we took a tour bus of the city.

We had heard that if you try to drive the bus by yourself there would be problems, but a driver was already in the seat. So we waited to start.

I sat in one seat. Across the isle and behind one row, my mom, and wife, and my dad sat. My dad was not wearing his shirt.

My mom quizzed me about the Crusades some. I was able to name the first few but not the last. We checked our answers on our laptops and laughed.

The bus took us around the famous sites of Los Angeles. It was not the real Los Angeles, but the “Los Angeles of Dreams.” The brown barren hills were so high, the half-cloudy skies were so bright and blue, the water that soaked us was so wet.

Sometime I said “I think Fei is scared,” but I heard the words in my dad’s voice. I helped Fei across the aisle and she came to sit with me.

Then I woke up.

About three minutes later I realized it was a dream of my father.

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One thought on “The Los Angeles of Dreams
  1. Dan – my dad has been dead now for 26 years. At first I did not dream of him at all. Maybe after a decade, he began to enter my dreams. He would be as he looked when he died – the dream always had the same form – I was puzzled about where he had been and he could never give me an answer.

    Latterly he gets younger and we just hang out – I don’t see him very often but when I do it’s wonderful.

    Wishing you many happy times with your dad

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