Something About That Dream

There’s a dream at the start of Alone But Never Alone—though I guess it doesn’t feel like a start. It’s more like being dropped into a memory you’re unsure you lived through.

Nina’s asleep. Or maybe not. She’s moving through places that meant something once—Napa, the city, a theater, a vineyard. She’s not alone, but nothing is ever said. It’s the dream where everything matters, but you can’t know why.

I’ve had dreams like that. I think most of us have. You wake up with something lodged in your ribs, like a dream that borrowed a feeling from your past and dressed it up in different clothes. That’s where this sequence came from.

I didn’t want it to explain anything. I wanted it to whisper. To feel like something unfinished. Like a strand that might lead somewhere later—if you’re paying attention.

That’s the kind of story I’m trying to tell. Not one that hands you a map. One that asks you to feel your way through it.

More soon,

xo

Dana