DAY 36 - I DREAM IN COLOR

I DREAM IN COLOR [36]

We were cat-sitting at Madeline’s but it wasn’t her real house 

and we never saw the cat. Instead we stayed at a formidable 

red brick mansion with wrought iron gates and an ivy-trellised 

courtyard, I think it was New Orleans. 

Out of the blue your mother’s long dead bridge partners barged in 

through French doors that opened off the library. The old busybodies 

wore magnificent feathered hats in marvelous gaudy colors: 

magenta, aquamarine, vermilion, saffron. They left as suddenly 

as they arrived, carrying away Madeline’s prized first editions 

sequestered under their fluttering headpieces. All kinds 

of outlandish strangers wandered in after that and I yelled at you 

to lock the doors. A Mardi Gras parade with a captain who looked 

like Woody Allen, wearing a kaleidoscope of colored beads, 

a sapphire uniform with diamond studded buttons and a pocketful 

of shiny doubloons, twirled down St. Charles Avenue.

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