My dream about ND's former office at 404 Davisville Road

New Directions once had an office at 404 Davisville Road, Willow Grove, PA. Damian LaRosa was the landlord. We had the office a good three years until I gave it up. Why not work in my own home instead of heading for an office?

Last night I was back at the office in a long vivid dream. It was not the same place. The building was cavernous, like an airplane hanger with cinderblock walls.

I set about making my desk in the front of this large building. Damian was not there. I walked back and forth looking at all the tenants.

A sallow-looking man with gaunt cheeks was sitting in his office. Just one look at the man and he gave you the willies. Looked like some weasel in a film noir. He glanced up at me and paid me no mind. Then he began to play loud rock music that blasted throughout the building. He had a big white car, a Lincoln perhaps, parked outside up against the wall.

Sarah was there. I couldn’t always recognize her and would go in search of her and ask myself, Is that Sarah? She wore a backpack. Once, after she had disappeared, I asked Where have you been? She said she’d been downstairs, the basement I suppose. She was very officious, knowing exactly what she was doing.

There were children there too, part of a large family.

Suddenly I realized I didn’t belong here. I didn’t have a key to the building as I did when I worked at 404 Davisville Road and wondered how I'd gotten in. I began to collect my stuff. I had a big pile of papers. But then again, were they mine? I wasn’t sure if it was my handwriting. I didn’t recognize anything I had written.

There was a huge bin filled with movies – videocassettes – ostensibly for our Movie Nights which we used to have at 404.

How would I ever carry out all these heavy things?

When I awoke from the dream I said, This is one dream I must write down. It seemed – what? – prophetic? A hint of what it’s like to have your brain go awry. Alzheimer's? Dementia?

Before the dream left me, I went into my upstairs office here on Cowbell Road and typed it up. Imagine if I had to trek all the way over to 404 Davisville to do my typing. There would’ve been nothing left.