In real life, as opposed to my puzzle dream, my family lived on an old farm. It wasn’t a working farm, but it had all the buildings. One day, when I was 14 or so, my mom and brother picked me up at a bus depot. We were driving home and had to pull over because the weather was very bad, the winds very strong. We waited it out in our car parked behind a concrete park building. The weather passed and we headed home. The closer we got to home, the more we saw things laying down – telephone poles, trees, bigger trees, small buildings. As we pulled into the drive, there was our enormous oak completely uprooted, laying close to, but not on our house. Then I saw the barn. The old wood barn was there almost intact, laying on its back, the front collapsed to the ground. More than the visual memory, I carry a strong feeling about seeing the barn. I felt my breath taken away, powerless, human.

The feeling I had seeing our real barn blown over was the same feeling I had in the dream just before it shattered into millions of puzzle pieces.


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