The Interpretation of dreams is the royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind.
Gail looked out the water-beaded kitchen window of their affluent suburban home, which was just a short commute from downtown Chicago. It just rained or maybe it’s between showers or it’s possibly raining still, Gail thought to herself. Everything was gray and wet, and it smothered her. Her mind was becoming progressively dull, as if everything was moving in slow motion and more and more she was beginning not to care. About anything. It’s the medication, she decided. Increasingly she realized that she couldn’t live with it but that she couldn’t live without it, either. How on earth has it come to this, she wondered?
She looked at her husband in the window’s reflection and instantly felt weak; she just wanted to lie down and go to bed. Oblivious to just about everything, it seemed, he sat at the table drinking coffee with his head stuck in the newspaper. When did he become disinterested, she asked herself?
“Don’t forget the refill on my prescription, honey,” she said, without turning around. Robert either grunted, or said, “Oh, sure,” or some such. Gail didn’t listen. Another friggin’ bottle of pills. Was her depression getting any better? No. If anything, it’s getting worse, she thought. Robert isn’t concerned, she considered, because pills are his stock in trade. From his point of view, it’s perfectly natural that people are on all kinds of pills for all kinds of mood maladies. He’s a shrink, after all. Not feeling up to par? Pop a pill.
“I need to get to work. Where’s Jason?” Robert asked, as he finished his coffee. Gail didn’t turn or respond. She continued to wash the dishes.
Robert found the ten year old for himself. He was in the front room playing ‘clap your hands,’ with his imaginary friends.
“Who are you talking to?” Robert inquired.
“Just some Munchkins.”
“Some Munchkins? Like in The Wizard of Oz?”
“They’re my friends.”
“They’re your imaginary friends,” said Robert, successfully hiding his disapproval.
“My best friends,” said Jason with a broad smile. Deciding that his son obviously needed a life lesson, some instruction from his responsible parent, Robert thought quickly about what his best approach should be.
“Show them to me. What are their names?”
“Johnny, Jasper, Freddie and Ringo.” Jason pointed, as he made the introductions.
“And where do these guys live?”
“Under there. Did you know that there’s a huge Munchkin city right underneath the floorboards?”
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Genre - Literary Fiction
Rating – PG