Me and Elvis

I think I told you before how I have been having weird dreams. In the time before I wake, I replay the same dream over and over, kind of like my brain is editing and rewriting things.

This morning this paragraph played out repeatedly with varying changes:

The King and I walked into the room.  The bar was dim and smoky, but the woman immediately drew our attention.  She was dressed in a tight white dress that showed all of her curves. Each was in just the right place. The dress was low cut and shimmered an icy blue when it reflected the light. She only had eyes for Elvis, but he had no intention of being sunk by that iceberg. Me, I was changing my name to 'Titanic'

Weird stuff, I know. I never hung out with Elvis Presley. But the scene was not played out in my dream, the words were. I was writing this. Still an hour or so later I cannot get it out of my head. Do you know what bugs me the most? It is not even good writing.

I hope you have a good Saturday. Keep cool out there, it is summer, you know.