Jupiter rising

In a dream I met Issabella. I was in South Texas on an extended vacation. I spent most of my days at the beach and some nights just walking around the small oil town of Lorenzo. Issabella was a waitress at the only decent Italian restaurant in the town. When business was slow she would bring a bottle of wine and sit with me. I considered these dates, I believe she once told me they were awkward attempts at seduction.

One night I asked if she wanted to walk with me to the ice cream shop, a couple of blocks from the restaurant. She walked over and said something to the only other diners, removed her apron and we walked in the hot summer night, holding hands and smiling at the timing.

That was as close as we would get. Her husband returned from the war in Pascovillia, a bitter and tormented man, although, when Issabella was a little drunk, she would admit that when he left for the war he was already quite bitter and tormented. If anything, the war had brought him calm.

For a few more weeks I would frequent the best Italian restaurant and Issabella would bring me a glass of red wine and a perfectly cooked chicken breast and we would smile at one another. When I moved on we exchanged email address and I left her my cell number. Strangely, we have stayed in touch and I think we are much closer now than ever.

At 1:20 this morning, while I was dancing in my bedroom in boxers and a wife beater t-shirt, my cell phone buzzed.

Issabella; Is that you? I am sorry to be calling so soon.

Me; Early. You are calling early. It is 1 in the morning.

Issabella; Were you awake.

Me; Yes I was dancing.

Issabella; Yes of course.

She went on to tell me a gruesome story involving raccoons, an elderly walnut salesman and the complete destruction of a pumpkin field. I was tired and needed rest, so I laid back in bed, the phone cradled to my ear. She told me of her son, Dante, now a chemist with Exxon, but he hates the work, he hates that he helps create the biggest profits in the history of the world while damaging the soul of our very society. That weights heavy on him, she said. I never met Dante and I was starting to drift.

Issabella; I was reading the story about poo on the internet.

Me; I have no idea what you are talking about.

Issabella; If I could, I would link to it right here.

Me; Get your own blog. Is there a point to this call?

Issabella; No. I am just a prop for you to test fun new devices.

Me; Thought so.

Then I fell asleep. Only to wake again at 4:15, dreaming of a large bumble bee hovering over my bed, trying to decide if it should sting me or find a path out of my bedroom.