I was participating in a special service at my old church, where I was to read from a book. Suddenly, though, after reaching the platform, I had to go to the bathroom. I didn’t know when I was supposed to read and didn’t want to miss the opportunity, but I couldn’t wait any longer and so I left.

To my horror, I found an odd-looking child with curly hair with me. I couldn’t tell whether it was a boy or girl, and it had a large head and small body like a cartoon. The child didn’t say anything but would not leave me. I thought I would be accused of abduction.

I found myself in a maze of hallways. This appeared to be a new building, constructed since my last visit in the place where the pastor’s house used to be. I could see the parking lot at one point, although there did not appear to be windows. The walls were natural pine, complete with knotholes. Graffiti, mostly in white, covered them, which shocked me as I could not imagine the kids at the church treating it with such open disrespect. I tried to read it to see if it were at least spiritual in nature, but I couldn’t.

I found the bathroom, but as is usual in my dreams, it was odd and required decisions about cleanliness, privacy, etc. By this time I was carrying the child, who seemed utterly attached to me. As I sat in a stall with no door, still holding the child, a man came toward me. I thought somehow that this child’s father had lost his wife (the mother?) and had remarried. The man, the father, took the child from me wordlessly as I sat there.

When I came out, unsure if I’d missed the time for my reading, I looked down and saw that my formerly fresh yellow dress was streaked with lines of embedded dirt. I did not know how this could have happened, but between the father’s silent accusation, the child’s unspoken attachment and anguish, and the mysterious ruin of the dress, I wanted to fade away.