Washing dishes

Of all strange dreams this is the strangest one, not because it is but because it is not.
I am standing in my leaving area just watching him as he does the dishes. That’s it.
He stands in front of my sink, here in  my new apartment and with a white apron on systematically washing dishes.

The moment is so short lived, for a brief moment, a minute or two at the most I just . . . watch him. I study his motions, his hands, his arms . . . As he picks them up, washes them and then sets them on the drying tray.

Such a daily, boring task but when done by him I am mesmerized and I can’t  keep my eyes from him.

Wait. What is he doing at my apartment!?!?

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