Wooden Seats from the History Museum on the Bus

Wooden Seats from the History Museum on the Bus

I dreamed I was late for work and took the bus, except the seats were those old wooden ones from the history museum we went to last month. A guy from college sat next to me, only he was also my current neighbor, same face mixed together. He had a letter in his pocket with a wax seal and kept asking if I’d still meet him by the river after closing. We got off at my office building, but the lobby was the museum’s costume hall, and I was wearing my usual blazer over a long skirt I don’t own. I felt that embarrassing crush from sophomore year all over again, plus the worry I’d miss my 9 a.m. meeting. He held my hand on the stairs that wouldn’t end, and I kept thinking I should tell him I have a partner now, but I didn’t want the moment to stop. Then I realized I’d left my phone on the bus and woke up with that hollow longing.