I dreamt of a pink dress last night.
It wasn’t a pale pink dress. No. It was a vibrant, strong, bright, beautiful pink dress. I know that it was pink because everything around it was black and white and gray.
The dress wasn’t on anyone. It wasn’t worn on a person walking down a street, on a beach, sitting in a chair, in an opera or in a cafe. It was being held and passed between two people, me being one of them. The other person, I’m not sure.
I don’t really think that the dress was a bridal dress but I can’t be sure. I don’t think it was fluffy like tulle but I don’t think it was limp either. I don’t think it was old but not particularly new either. I didn’t get the sense that it had been previously owned or passed down generations either, but I just don’t know.
The problem is that I don’t know.
I woke up crying in the middle of the night because this dream was so poignant, so precious and because I wanted to hang on to it so badly yet, when I woke, all I remembered about it was the pink dress.
It has haunted me all day, that certain shade of pink, stark against the dull of the black and white background. I want to remember more, who was in the house and why it was being passed back and forth. Particularly who. I hope – long – to dream the same dream again tonight so that I can remember, so that I can have the chance to remember again.
Perhaps I will again dream of pink tonight.
Zazazu 
I love this post, your writing, the style. I hope you do dream of pink again because I want more.
I love how a simple image can inspire such emotion. That’s what makes all the art in the world, all the creation, so spectacularly enjoyable. Pink dreams for everyone!
Wow. Look at how the Artist’s way is affecting your nights!
I love it!
Dreams like that are so bitter-sweet, aren’t they? Before I had children I had a dream I was holding a little boy’s hand walking through the mall. The feelings I was feeling during the dream were so strong and intense, that I still remember the exact way I felt to this day. I was walking along with him just holding his hand, but really all I could think about was how I wanted to pull him close, breathe in his hair, and tell him how much I loved him, but something kept stopping me and telling me “It isn’t time yet, it isn’t time yet”. But that blonde hair, those big blue eyes, and that smile…. oh, that smile. I woke up crying because I wanted to stay in that dream forever with that little hand clutching mine so tightly, and that big, strong, amazing love I felt for that little boy I’d never met. But I woke up and he was gone and for several days I mourned him being gone. The face stayed in my mind forever though… and those little hands, I never forgot the feeling.
Do you know what? My second son…. is that very same little boy. And finally I can breathe in that soft hair, and kiss those pink cheeks and hold those little hands for real, not just in my dreams.
I hope your pink dress comes to you in the same way my little boy did.
Did you dream of pink again?
WOW! That is absolutely gorgeous. Thanks for the kudo’s to me…(I’ve posted the apron).
I just bought a red (like as red as you can get) velvet wiggle dress. I’m going to wear it when I get married, whenever that may be.