it's coming up on three years since he died, and this only the second time he's appeared to me in a dream. last time in person, no voice; this time in voice only. we talk. he seems surprised to hear me. he still remembers me — i remember in the dream worrying if he would or not, his last decade or so spent under the pall of dementia. but while he forgot a lot (in the real world), he never once forgot me; or, happily, my partner.
in the dream we talk for a while, and then i hang up after promising to call him back later. i look out into the back yard: grass and weeds; i can see the large tree and sheet metal fence from the last house. something runs past. a massive, red-eyed skunk, a dead cat cradled in its jaws.