Pride Month

I woke up at 5:48 this morning, part of the reason is that the dog was already fidgeting around the room. Her paws tap-tap on the wooden floor, echoing between furniture and my eardrums. I opened the door and she sprinted out, right to the water tank. After wolfing down a ton of water, she followed me back into the room, meekly and contentedly.

I then woke up at 7:30 and 9:10, which is the time I pulled a muscle in my neck when flipping on my side. The pain gnawed me hard.

If I could have gotten up earlier, maybe I wouldn’t suffer now. I grumbled.

This unforeseen misfortune somehow deepened my faith on Carpi Diem. You better make life worth it before it makes you suffer.

Then I start to be reminiscent of my dream last night.

I dreamed about Sam. The hot and sweet specialist at Apple Store. I was looking for a Pride watchband the other day. All the other display tables were quite crowded while the one for watchbands was surprisingly spacious. He came to my side while I was taking my time to fumble the samples.

He’s tall and his hair is neatly done. His skin is shimmered with a perfect tan, his voice, reassuring, muscular and charged with a lively vibration.

I couldn’t remember how our conversation began. He just has the power to click with you right on the same frequency. He handed me a sample to let me try on. The color was disappointingly bland though, and the white fibers were tainted with black stains. It looked far less appealing than the commercial pictures. I put it back to his hand. Then our conversation diverted to the rainbow pin on his chest. I complimented on it, he smiled and said something spontaneous, which made me laugh in a split of second.

Then he helped me to put on my old watchband. I could never figure out the perplexing mechanism of it. After failing the first several times, he took it from my hand and put it together for me. “Have done it thousand times.”He squinted his eyes and smiled behind his mask. He must have read the admirations in my pupils.

I said thank you and all of sudden I felt intoxicated, by his voice, maybe, or by his sexuality or sweetness. I mumbled goodby and stumbled away from the table. When I looked back, he’s flooded by a group of newly arrived customers.

It took me a good minute to recover from that trance of intoxication. I should have asked for his Instagram, or something like that. I murmured to myself on my way home. But deep down I knew I wouldn’t summon enough courage to do it even if the time was reversed.

The day after that comes the twist. He greeted me on Aloha. It turns out that we’ve befriended each other on the social platform way before. He recognized me right on the spot while I just didn’t connect his face with his profile on the app. After the greeting we sent each other our WeChat accounts.

Hi, Adam.

Hi, Sam.

So you remember my name. He typed with the same lively vibration.

Right now I’m putting one hand on my neck, trying to rub the pain away and untangle the pieces of my dream last night. Unfortunately, the details were elusive, and my effort to unfurl it is in vain, but the meet-up with Sam in real life is no less dreamlike. “Looks as if it’s all written in the stars.” Rickie said jokingly after hearing my story.

My neck still hurts. the strain is a serious one. Maybe it’s a signal for me to stop being lazy and gear up.

I kind of look forward to life in June now.


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