Que reste-t-il de ces beaux jours?
-Charles Trenet
Une photo, vieille photo
De ma jeunesse…
I have found myself remembering my dreams more than usual lately, perhaps due to a few months of nightmares that I can’t seem to shake. Obvious ones come in the form of panicked work-dreams — heart-pounding anxiety dreams where I wake panting and needing a cool glass of water to calm me down. Others are more nebulous and unclear in their imagery. And then there are the ghosts.