| Details for Notes from the Mud |
 |
|
The dream was more than a month ago, and it was vivid like none of my 'normal' dreams are. Vivid like only the dreams I'd had before, after Tim and I were first involved. I didn't feel like I was just dreaming, I felt like I was there. Watching. Watching tanks rolling down a muddy road into a small town, airplanes flying overhead, and the noise. Gunfire and screams. Explosions. A tank rolled by so close to me I felt like I could have put my hand out and touched it. Even the smoke that kept me from seeing everything else too clearly (which I am grateful for) felt like it burned my lungs.
It was blessedly short. I turned away from the source of the noise and the smoke, and walked along the road. I sensed more than saw soldiers marching past me. And as I walked, I tread on something hard alongside the road. I stopped and looked down, seeing a direction sign that had been knocked over and ground into the dirt. Most of it was unreadable, covered by mud or broken to pieces. But there was one thing I could see clearly. 'Haderslev 10km' A place, apparently, but one of dreams, a name I didn't know and never expected to see again. But it stuck with me, as things from dreams are wont to do.
I woke up, clammy and cold, with tears on my cheeks. But Tim was warm and reassuring in bed next to me, still asleep. Just a bad dream. I pulled his arm around me, and after a while I managed to sleep again.
It was in the headlines of this morning's news. Denmark has been invaded by the Germans. Copenhagen was taken. Occupied. There were tales of battles fought, some successfully, but it was all over when they took Copenhagen. So many names of so many towns and villages that were battlegrounds. One name struck me like a physical blow as I skimmed the story. Haderslev.
I don't know if I should tell Tim. Since we've been back together we've not mentioned those dreams from two years ago. Not once. They were gone from my life, I thought for good.
It was just one dream. One odd, vivid dream. Coincidence. I can convince myself of that. I don't know that I could convince Tim. He was so sure before. It's best to not mention it, I think. What good would it do?