Lost Trail Road

The truck bumped and jolted as we drove up the steep gravel road through a dense green forest.

- Jan Jakeman

We climbed higher and higher toward the top of a hill. I knew where we were. Lost Trail Road. An out-of-the-way, unpaved route not far from my house. I was in the passenger seat, and my seven-year-old son, Bobby, was in the back. My nephew Barry was driving. I gazed out my window into the trees. Something caught my eye. A bright green object. I looked harder. Was that…a piano?

“Stop!” I said.

My eyes fluttered open. I gazed around my dark bedroom. My husband, Hank, snored quietly beside me. What a dream! It had felt so real. Maybe I’d dreamed about the drive because we planned on visiting my parents in the morning. But why Lost Trail Road? Going that route was much slower than the highway. I hadn’t been on that road in years. And what about the green piano I’d seen in my dream? I could still picture it in my head, as clear as day.