The Good Dream

Not long ago I had a good dream. In this dream, I had a little plant. Some kind of ivy. It was badly withered, so I thought to repot it, but by the time I had set up a new pot and fixed the soil, the plant had nearly dried into dust. I was about to give up on it, but then it produced a bright green tendril. Moments later, it had taken root. New leaves were practially erupting from the plant, and it produced some enormous tuber thing that almost took up all the space in the new pot.

This is the most hopeful dream I've had in a long time. But right now, my memories of it are disturbing. I guess unusual pleasant things can be more disturbing than ordinary unpleasant things.