This morning I thought it must be a metaphor.I had this weird dream last night. I was traveling, and I met this young woman with short, dark hair like the French actresses have, who was traveling with a man somewhere in the United States. The man was mean to her, but she put up with it. Still, she looked sad; she was looking for a way out. I helped her get away from him, and we traveled together. Everywhere we went, she would stop in the bus station and retrieve the belongings she’d left in the lockers there. She was hoarding things from old relationships all over the country.
This morning I thought it must be a metaphor. Runaway women, with baggage they can’t let go. That or a French movie.