I had a dream this morning, in which I was shopping, getting ready for the job coming.  I had limited funds, and as I found more important necessary things, I set aside lesser items.  I was looking at skirts, flowing beautiful skirts, when appeared my friend.  I called him by Rebar's name, although in appearance he seemed to be my friend who visited long ago, the one with whom there is finally a peace after a long misunderstanding.  I was glad to see him and we joked around.  He seemed unusually lively.
    We were in a house, keeping an eye on a little girl named Tasha.  I don't know whose child Tasha might have been.  She was playing quietly with her toys in the hallway, and my friend and I were on the bed, telling stories and jokes and laughing, being easy together.  He rolled over, tossing a knee over mine, and put his head on my arm, and I could feel by the change in his body from stiffness to fluidity, that he felt like making love.
    I used a parents trick.
    "Tasha, are you ready for your nap now?"
    "No."
    "You're not tired?"
    "No."
    "Well, would you mind if Rebar and I took a nap?  I could close the door so you could keep playing and not wake us up, is that ok?"
    "Ok."
    I heard a grunty kind of sound from my father down the hall that I took to mean he would keep an ear open for her, and I closed the door and came to bed.  Then, alas, I woke up.