My dream about Hillary started with us passing in a parking lot. Hillary was on her way to her caravan (a large family car, the epitome of suburban achievement in the US in the 90s) and I was on my way somewhere.. As we passed she looked me deep in the eye, the way spies would do when they pass each other at a cocktail party and communicate through their eyes without talking. But then she spoke and it was something very personal that surprised me. It had something to do with a choice I had to make. I remember being surprised about the personal attention, as I assumed she was dealing in millions, not single, votes.
Later I found myself in a house decorated in sixties style with kelly green open weave curtains. Hillary, instead of leaving in her caravan, had returned. She was with her son, a pesky little mini version of Bill but with a darker complexion and slightly overweight. He was a real pill and Axel, or was it Joe Sterling, thought he needed to be taught a lesson. I think it was Joe who knocked the kid to the ground. He scrambled up with a bloody lip but he stopped being a pill. Hillary ignored him throughout.
I was surprised her cellphone wasn’t ringing off the hook. She talked about her husband always using his first and last name. Chelsea was there also, but again, a Hispanic version, slightly overweight. She mentioned that Bill had worked with Chemonics. Now things started to move faster. Hillary began to hold court in the (my?) living room and she was on the phone all the time. I was upstairs with Axel and some other people and everyone seemed to be encouraging me to make a move but I felt immobilized. Then suddenly there were lots of babies and the way Hillary interacted with them was very compelling. I remember thinking, if I had a small child I would vote for her. She then left with Chelsea and once again she looked me deep into the eyes. And then I woke up.
Sylvia's Journal 
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