Dear Me,

I had a Dream of Pulling Teeth

The week after a visit to the dentist, I fell asleep in the middle of the week and climbed a cylinder tower with a straight staircase to the garden rooftop. I found a former acquaintance waiting for me. He was so arrogant that he didn’t talk. He just stood there with a strong jaw line and crossed arms. He pursed his lips and chin. I didn’t care. He led me to his pretentious loft with glass walls and snooty 360 view. The city glittered from far off like lit bokeh in photographs. I tried to ignore my awkward and arrogant acquaintance. He looked at me cross armed. 

I drove home in a rebellious looking top down and wiggled a loose tooth. I looked up to find myself at a public bath. Like the ones they had in ancient Greece. The walls were white and slick with condensation. The room was full of nude, bathing women. My loose tooth fell out. And then a molar. They all began to slide out in turn. I had a handful of teeth before I could understand how it was happening. I stood there amazed and invisible to the bathing women with a row of gums instead of teeth.