Pieces of conversation

He had a dream.
He cheerily tells me he had the weirdest dream about me the other night. He doesn't remember most of the dream. What he remembers is that I was a quadriplegic with prosthetic limbs. And he recalls vividly long after he awakes that I was on the ground on my torso and looking up at him.

The weirdest bit is that he had a dream with me in it.

Quite a different matter from he dreams of me. I wish.

Got difference meh?
I asked her if a friend of ours is still dating the Lebanese. She tells me the guy is Libyan. How did I get Lebanese?

My mind goes to another conversation some years ago about another woman dating this guy that everyone said was Algerian. Or maybe Nigerian. Same difference they said, when I persisted with asking so which was he.

I guess it's the same difference this time too.

Claws.
I whine to a fellow dancer friend that I am distressed I am not able to make lovely soft wave movements with my hands in my dance choreography. My fingers lock and my hands look like claws. I show her what I mean. And realise to my added horror that the joints on my fingers are knobbier than I remembered them.

Sigh. I make knobby claw-like movements with my hands these days.