Rowdy’s Dream Blog #31
I am at the family barn with my girlfriend, G, and some other friends. We have all packed our backpacks for a long journey. I explain to G that our current position in the mountains will allow us to travel further without crossing any continental divides than would any other location. My geographical claims are corroborated by the others. G offers to carry some of the water in my pack. I remove 3 containers and hand them to her. We begin our journey, walking in single file. I notice a thin, white-haired old man with a drooping white mustache raking the corral. He smiles at us. Two others work near a fire truck. He calls to me: "We came to see you off! By the way, we're dead." I ask him directly if he is a ghost, which he acknowledges.