The Dye Job (Prince Dream #3)

February 6, 2017

Last night I dreamed of Prince again. It wasn’t an elaborate dream like the spaceship, just Prince hanging out with me. We were lying on the couch listening to music. It was soft jazz music, I think. I was lying almost on top of Prince and he had his arm was wrapped around my shoulder.  My heart was aching. I was lonely and I felt worthless. My head was resting on his chest just under his chin. He was so warm. I told him I missed and he held me tighter.

I was crying but tried to catch my tears before they fell on his white suit. It was an immaculately cut suit, made from a wool that was simultaneously warm and cool.  His hair was relaxed and cut in a shoulder-length bob with face-framing bangs. He was wearing a handmade white beret in a snowflake pattern. It was made with silk/wool lace-weight thread using a “00” crochet hook. The work was so fine that it draped like woven cloth; only a true master could achieve this effect.  I want to say beret glowed, but that would be hyperbole. It was radiant that’s for sure.

“I feel like a failure,” I said.

Prince squeezed my shoulder again and said: “You’ll feel better if you do something to your hair.”

Next, the dream flashed to a kitchen with dark wood cabinets and mustard yellow floors.

 

burgandy hair

I don’t know whose house we were in–it wasn’t mine. Prince was standing next to the open refrigerator holding a highball glass of dark red liquid. He was about to drink it and I tell him to stop because it’s toxic.

 

He says “then why are you putting it in your hair.”

And somehow (you know how dreams work) I could see myself standing at the sink with a blue towel draped around my neck and a burgundy afro on my head.  It looked ridiculous! Prince laughed and I woke up.

 

 

 

©2018 Joy of Eryka

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