foggy memories and sometimes longings

this is the game: every sunday this blog posts five words. anyone can come along, take the five words, and make a sentence, poem, short story, novel, whatever with them. i check it out sometimes but have never looked at the five words before and really felt they clicked for me. until today. and i cannot say for sure why; i've never even been to new jersey. but i liked the words: thread, dream, rhythm, vintage, inconceivable. its more than a sentence but not a poem or short story. i do not have a novel buried inside me somewhere, no matter what month it is. however, i do suddenly have this sentiment to express...

i dreamed of him last night. every part of the relationship had seemed inconceivable. it was beyond chance that we met at all. we didn't get along and not in an opposites-attract-we-live-in-a-romantic-comedy way but in a genuinely incompatible way, a forced friendship. and then i honestly didn't think i would ever miss him until suddenly i had the dream. and in the way that foggy memories and blurry nastalgia make the past alway seem better, i started to reminisce about the little cigar bar in the middle of nowhere new jersey. the regulars informed me that the place had not changed in decades. the owners had neglected updating the decor until it had come near full circle. the smoky room was filled with vintage artwork and threadbare chairs, but the cold world melted away when he sat on stage. every listener could feel the rhythm in their hands and feet, hips and heads, all the way through to a tickle in the pit of their tummies. i'd prefer to remember him as the tall, lean, blond who smiled when i walked over to the bar and let the rest be a blur around the edges.