Racing Through the Lobby to Meet My Boyfriend

Racing Through the Lobby to Meet My Boyfriend

I woke up feeling like I’d just missed a train in the 1940s. In the dream I was standing in the lobby of the old downtown hotel where my grandparents used to stay, but the receptionist was a young woman I recognized from my college days – she had the same laugh and the same scar on her cheek. She handed me a brass key and told me I was late for a dinner with my boyfriend, who was wearing a crisp navy uniform like a wartime officer. I ran down a hallway that seemed to stretch forever, passing doors that opened onto familiar places: the grocery store where I buy milk, the subway platform I use every morning, but all with faded wallpaper and gas lamps. When I finally reached the dining room, the tables were set with lace and candles, and my boyfriend was already there, looking up and smiling. He whispered, “You finally made it,” and I felt a rush of relief mixed with embarrassment because I could still hear the clock ticking, counting down the minutes I’d missed.