A dream from a few days ago or so...

This is another dream featuring my grandfather.

I was getting some kind of chocolate-filled pastry out of the kitchen closet. It was long, thin, and flakey, and I was eating it as I went into the living room and sat down in a chair.

Steve sat down in the chair next to mine. He had one filled with white creme of some sort. He grinned at me and we had a very short conversation.

"I got one of these, too, but they're your mom's so unlike you I asked first."

"They aren't Mom's."

"Yes, they are."

"Well, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, you did."

"No, I didn't."

"You knew, and you know it."

"The hell I did."

That's when I looked over at Steve again. But, it wasn't Steve, it was Grandpa and he gave me this look that was all at once serious, surprised, and angry. A look that asked with indignant silence if I was crazy. In the dream and in reality I'd never spoken to him that way in my life...