rshort1202

I’m in Scotland (I think with Melissa, but she’s not with me in this moment). Outside, the sun is shining through the parted clouds. It is not intense at all, and the temperature is very pleasant. I’m now in a coffee shop or something similar, seated at a table with two unfamiliar men. One is closer to my age and the other is closer to middle aged, reading a paper. After just a minute or so, he asks how my weekend was. I reply and then we ask the other guy. I’m slightly cognizant that I will have an accent here but don’t think too much of it, as neither comment on it. I’m now thinking of what I’ve packed, which doesn’t seem to be much, and realize I’ve forgotten the one thing I really wanted to bring, my raincoat.

I am in, what is in my mind at least, Scotland. I’m looking up at gentle green hills as I float down a narrow, stone ravine. The water seems shallow and slow moving. The sun peeks out from behind a hill and causes a glare which I shade with my hand. The scene seems tranquil and special. There is something about me thinking about what if it was a dream. Now I’m somewhere different but related with a middle aged foreign seeming lady that I’ve just met. I end up asking her where she’s from. She replies with ‘Vina’, which I think is in Scotland. I ask if it’s southern and she says no, that it’s more North than the North Pole. The conversation then easily moves to me staying there with her. I want to, and think I start making travel plans.