Dream Baby Dream

by Guy Cramer

I want a girl wearing a sundress made of fiery threads, playing early Dylan on an old portable turntable when I show up to tell her there’s a surprise. We’ll hop in her ‘56 Chevy truck, park at a lookout point over Hill Country, and watch the antler tops of deer as headlights weave down winding dark river roads. She’ll ask if I know about constellations and I’ll say yes (but I’ve only read the first four chapters of Astronomy For Dummies). I’ll go, “oh Ryan,” and she’ll go, “don’t you mean Orion?” It’ll become our inside joke. She’ll ask what my favorite part of her is, and I’ll tell her it’s the truck before she slaps my arm as she follows my pointer finger rising toward the distance at what is probably moth-glitter under the moon, rationalizing it to be a shooting star, a UFO, or a piece of something falling off an airliner; whatever we both need to keep from waking this moment up.

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Guy Cramer is a writer from the Ark-La-Tex region whose stories have appeared in various online publications. He’s on Instagram.