I keep dreaming about my grandmother, the one who died almost three years ago.

This time, we were taking a trip together, alone for once. We were on a bus on its way to oblivion; I had no idea where we were headed, but it was just nice to be alone with my grandma and I trusted her to lead us onward.

At one point, the bus rolled into a rest stop on some dreary highway and we were all asked to exit. The bus driver and another official-looking individual started to check our tickets and also measure our heights. I was confused but we all complied. Somehow, I returned to my seat before Ma, and I didn’t notice her absence until the bus had already started moving.

I frantically scanned the faces of the other passengers, hoping I’d somehow overlooked her, but she was definitely missing. I rushed up to the bus driver in a panic, but he didn’t seem at all surprised.

“We left her behind. Her ticket was invalid and she didn’t have enough money on her to cover the fee.”

I ranted and railed, tried to bully the driver into turning us around.

“She’s 73 years old. How could you leave her in the middle-of-nowhere? Why wasn’t I notified?!”

Etc., etc.

The driver ignored me.

The dream ended before I could strangle the bastard.

Lately, many of my dreams have ended in my utter frustration and helplessness.

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