A good dream

I was leaving a Radiohead concert with a favorite student as the band was playing their last song, Faust Arp. I could hear the song as he (favorite student) and I stumbled upon an outdoor bazaar with studios in back. I found a studio with all of these incredible fabrics laid out on tables. The woman there told me she could make me anything I wanted out of any of the fabrics. I nodded and went back outside. My student told me he was going to go home and make some homemade "crisps" and read into the night. He pointed out that he was wearing his favorite pants, with a pocket just the right size for his copy of Macbeth, which he had never read but would read tonight. He said he had just finished re-reading Hamlet, and "the thing that no one gets" is that Ophelia, he said, "meets her death with a credible lexical self." I smiled, waved goodbye, and went up to a balcony to watch the crowd. I found Johnny Depp* there, leaning against the railing and smoking. I bummed two cigarettes from him and smoked them slowly, one after the other. He smoked with me. I told him that I wasn't really smoking, that this was a dream. He inhaled, squinted, smiled, nodded, and then laughed the loveliest laugh. I woke up.

*As far as I know, I have never dream-smoked with Johnny Depp before. I think I have to thank Heidi for this bit of subconscious awesomeness, as she is responsible for bringing Depp into my psyche on a weekly (at least) basis.