This morning, I dreamt of meeting a woman.

I knew her, in that way you just know of how things are in a dream, as a classmate from high school. She did not look like my classmate in real life and she probably saw my disbelief. She acknowledged how she grew more attractive since high school.

“Especially after I got married,” she explained.

She was on the slim side, with a little post-childbirth fat. Her hair nearly reached her waist and her skin was a pleasant olive. She was wearing tank top and cut-off shorts. She looked like how women appeared in Tagalog bold movies. In hindsight, she probably was.

We were walking along some narrow, tree-lined alley, talking about how things are since we graduated from high school. We crossed a footbridge and came out in a small wet market.

Suddenly the dream switched to a different scene and the of us were in bed, having sex. Whoa. At that point, I woke up. I’ll spare my readers from the details; I don’t think I want to remember them myself.