My Dream (a letter to my wife)

My Dear Wife,

I dreamed a dream last night. It was a good dream, because I dreamed of you. In this dream we were students, yes students. It’s really weird already, isn’t it? At first we were studying the French language. Later it seemed that we were studying the cuisine of France. But I’m on a diet and when you’re on a diet you’re always hungry and you’re always thinking about la cuisine.

The course was very easy, because we had studied French in high school and college. It was a good review for us. At first the professor was very serious. But later, as more of the class time was taken up with talk of food, he began to play practical jokes in class. The first time I noticed this, the lesson was on the wonderful French comfort food served in the bistros of Paris. We were talking about the bistro La Poule Au Pot and its signature dish Chicken in the Pot Garni. I was writing and when I looked up the professor had vanished. There was an immense chicken in front of the class. I turned my head toward you, but you were writing and did not see The Great Chicken. I turned back to look at him but he was gone and the professor was in front of the class again. He was smiling at me as if he had played a very funny joke.

In succeeding classes it seemed that the lessons were all about food and the professor ducked out more and more often. Whenever the professor was absent, The Great Chicken was in front of the class. But, the professor was always present at the beginning of the class. Now, in this class you always sat on my right and a young woman who was constantly asking questions always sat on my left.

One day when The Great Chicken was in front of the class the young woman who sat on my left asked “What wine do we use in preparing coq a vin?” I thought Oh la la she’s mocking him. The Great Chicken will be furious. Perhaps he will go away and never come back again. But, I was mistaken. The Great Chicken just clucked calmly. He said “Cluck, cluuuck, cluuck, cluck, cluuuuck”. The young woman who sat on my left was writing. I looked at her notes. She had written “Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck.”

At the next class session, the professor was not present at the beginning of the class for the first time. Why not? I don’t know. Perhaps that day was his wife’s birthday. Perhaps he had taken the day off to celebrate with her. Perhaps he was in the dean’s office. Perhaps the dean was reprimanding him for his horseplay in class. Of course, The Great Chicken was in front of the class.

The young woman who sat on my left arrived a bit late. She said “Pardon me sir. Your shopping bag is on my chair.” I looked at her chair. To my great surprise, there actually was a shopping bag there. I placed it on the floor. I looked inside. The bag contained a large knife (actually a cleaver), an onion, parsley, ground pork, ground veal, an egg, salt, pepper, carrots, leeks, turnips, whole cloves, celery, small potatoes and a bouquet garni. What a coincidence! The bag contained almost all of the ingredients for Chicken in the Pot Garni. The only ingredient that was missing from the shopping bag was strutting and clucking in front of the class.

Then my dream became a jumble. People were running. People were shouting. Perhaps there had been a fire in the chemistry lab. The young woman who sat on my left fainted. I tried to bring her around, but she let out a piercing shriek and fainted again. I thought let’s wait for professional help.

Now my dream is very clear. Yes, I’m dreaming still. This letter, this bed, this cell, the guard in the hall are all part of my dream, but they seem so real. Tomorrow, when I wake up. Where will I be? Here, or next to you, in our bed, at home? I love you. I miss you.

Your Loving Husband