Three Dreams ft. Instagram Girls
︎︎︎ Brittany Menjivar
︎ Feb 2, 2023
I.
We are at summer camp
There is no camper-counselor distinction
Though of course you’re 26
And you’ve recently dyed your hair pink
A cabin belonging to a minor character catches fire
You grab my hand, say your big line—
“Run!”
As we sit like children in the hills of refuge,
You point at the flames
And comment on their orange glow
I’m reminded of the time a Tinder boy
Sent me a video of the wildfire over his grandfather’s hometown
Wanting me to call the blaze beautiful
But I don’t tell you about that
I have nothing to say to you
Not even “I love your pink hair”
II.
We are strolling down Coastal Highway
In one of the five versions of Ocean City
That exist in my subconscious
I take you to my go-to bar
The dance floor has been consumed by a gift shop
Selling such trinkets as frisbees and automatic fans
You want to show me a carnival ride called “Riptide”—
But wait, there’s no time! We have to go to Vegas!
Thankfully it is just down the street
The shops at Caesars Palace are knee-deep in water
It’s nbd, nobody’s being all whiny about it
We lie on our backs and float
Admiring the statues of old gods
III.
We are in middle school together
You’re still like 30
I’m still 22
We don’t talk about it
Our best friends are planning
Their 12th birthday parties
They are played by real kids
I can’t tell if we’re doing a “wink-wink” thing
Or if any of this is serious
On our field trip to the aquarium
(Starring live fish as extras),
You tell me how badly you want me
To meet your husband
I go home with you via teleportation
When we get to your neighborhood
The sky is pink (“sailor’s delight”)
And your husband is waiting
In a parked car, waving
I don’t have a husband
I’m not turning 12
What am I doing?
I wake up.
We are at summer camp
There is no camper-counselor distinction
Though of course you’re 26
And you’ve recently dyed your hair pink
A cabin belonging to a minor character catches fire
You grab my hand, say your big line—
“Run!”
As we sit like children in the hills of refuge,
You point at the flames
And comment on their orange glow
I’m reminded of the time a Tinder boy
Sent me a video of the wildfire over his grandfather’s hometown
Wanting me to call the blaze beautiful
But I don’t tell you about that
I have nothing to say to you
Not even “I love your pink hair”
II.
We are strolling down Coastal Highway
In one of the five versions of Ocean City
That exist in my subconscious
I take you to my go-to bar
The dance floor has been consumed by a gift shop
Selling such trinkets as frisbees and automatic fans
You want to show me a carnival ride called “Riptide”—
But wait, there’s no time! We have to go to Vegas!
Thankfully it is just down the street
The shops at Caesars Palace are knee-deep in water
It’s nbd, nobody’s being all whiny about it
We lie on our backs and float
Admiring the statues of old gods
III.
We are in middle school together
You’re still like 30
I’m still 22
We don’t talk about it
Our best friends are planning
Their 12th birthday parties
They are played by real kids
I can’t tell if we’re doing a “wink-wink” thing
Or if any of this is serious
On our field trip to the aquarium
(Starring live fish as extras),
You tell me how badly you want me
To meet your husband
I go home with you via teleportation
When we get to your neighborhood
The sky is pink (“sailor’s delight”)
And your husband is waiting
In a parked car, waving
I don’t have a husband
I’m not turning 12
What am I doing?
I wake up.
Brittany Menjivar was born and raised in the DMV, but now works and plays in the City of Angels. Her short film Fragile.com (dir. Alison-Eve Hammersley) can be viewed via the ALTER Channel on YouTube. Her writing has been published by Versification, pan-pan press, and Bureau of Complaint (which nominated her piece "Prophecy" for a Best of the Net Award in 2022). @BrittMenjivar
Also by Brittany: California, A semi truck hit me