“Jonas?” Mother asked. They always asked, though they knew how rarely Jonas had a dream to tell.
“I did dream last night,” Jonas told them. He shifted in his chair, frowning.
“Good,” Father said. “Tell us.” “The details aren’t clear, really,” Jonas explained, trying to recreate the odd dream in his mind.
“I think I was in the bathing room at the House of the Old.” “That’s where you were yesterday,” Father pointed out. Jonas nodded.
“But it wasn’t really the same. There was a tub, in the dream. But only one. And the real bathing room has rows and rows of them.
But the room in the dream was warm and damp. And I had taken off my tunic, but hadn’t put on the smock, so my chest was bare.
I was perspiring, because it was so warm. And Fiona was there, the way she was yesterday.”
“Asher, too?” Mother asked. Jonas shook his head. “No. It was only me and Fiona, alone in the room, standing beside the tub.
She was laughing. But I wasn’t. I was almost a little angry at her, in the dream, because she wasn’t taking me seriously.”
“Seriously about what?” Lily asked. Jonas looked at his plate.
For some reason that he didn’t understand, he felt slightly embarrassed.
“I think I was trying to convince her that she should get into the tub of water.” He paused.
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