I had a strange X-Files inspired dream last night. Mulder and Scully’s long lost son William was in my house. He was a toddler, not sixteen years old, as he should be, considering his birth in 2001. My daughter was watching him, because apparently someone asked her to do that. I wanted to verify that it was William, so I showed him a photo of Scully, and he pointed to it frightenedly and started crying, “Mama!”
I wanted to call or text Scully and let her know we had her child, but I was afraid that Cigarette Smoking Man was monitoring my phone. I thought it might be best to arrange an in-person meeting, but I didn’t know if the more secure way to contact her would be a phone call or a text. I kept pondering over what I should do, and this made me feel very anxious.
I briefly woke up and realized it was a dream. But, it was too early, still dark, so I went back to sleep, and the dream resumed.
Well, at least it was a change of pace from the usual “My teeth are falling out,” “It’s finals day and I haven’t opened the book,” or “I’m running and keep falling down, and where are my pants?”