I was aware that it was a dream conversation, but I believed, in that little pocket of dream consciousness, that my mother had purposely willed that dream to me. Like she had blown it between my ears.

I wish that people had that ability, like the BFG. I would send my family dreams every night. About prosperous record labels, children who go to heaven with their parents, husbands who are loving. About landing super complicated skate tricks, getting A's on all papers, and meeting nice girls. About magical a-political worlds, and a publicly shamed and punished George W. About selling the beautiful things she makes, about feeling validated.