I dreamed I saw
(No, not St Augustine -- stop that. The song's already stuck in my head.)

I dreamed I saw Mike last night. Somebody was with me, and I don't remember exactly who it was, except that it was somebody who loved Mike. We were in this room in a big hospital-like place, though it was quieter and less busy than any hospital I've ever been in. It felt like an old building, and was all shades of cream-colored paint, mostly gone to grey-beige. Mike was sitting up in a hospital bed there. He was so thin, but not thinner than he had been in life. He was very pale, but again, yeah, that's how he was. When one of the nurses came in, he told her that he was getting better. After she went out, we were, you know, like, "Getting better? Dude, you're dead." And he smiled that smile he got when anybody caught him at something, the one I call his "Busted!" smile, and told us, "I keep forgetting." I got the impression that as soon as he had adjusted to the idea that he was dead, or something, then he could go. He got up out of the bed, waved to show that there were no IVs, nothing tethering him to the bed. He was amused by it, and I think was also proving to himself that he was not medically trapped in this place that was not a regular hospital. He said that pretty soon he was going to "walk right on out of here." He said that in his Explore The World voice. And then he started telling me the plot of a very complicated movie.

That's the first time I have seen him in my dreams since he's been gone. Sometime soon I should tell you guys about such dreams in my family, but for now, I am just posting this.

I'm in NYC right now. I'll be home in Minneapolis tonight. (Viable Paradise went really well, by the way, and it was extremely good to have that work to do right now. I got a lot figured out there. And I had really good roommates.)