I’m having dreams about talking with people. About sitting in beer halls and talking about normal things. About meeting people for dinner. About speaking to people in English and in Italian and Spanish. I desperately try to find a seat, but there are so many people all together that it’s standing room only.
And I wake up every morning and say hello to my plants. I ask them how they slept and tell them that I will make sure to give them water in a few minutes. We have a snake plant we’ve had for almost a year and a new arrival, a peppermint bunch.
“Hold on just a minute,” I say. “I’ll be right back to talk more after I have a shower.”