There is a certain intersection on the way to my fiancé’s parent’s house that we pass at least once whenever we travel up there. I have a very strong memory tied into that intersection, such that every time we pass it, no matter what else is going on, I remember this particular conversation.
SD is telling me about a book he read sometime in his past while we were waiting at a stoplight. It is a mystery book, in which a dog is a detective. He has a particular device on him that makes his inner thoughts audible, and in this way he communicates with humans. The particular scene he was describing to me is where the dog is trying to solve the mystery, and the clue he is currently looking at is a huge, complex painting. It has a whole bunch of things painted on it. And the dog is discussing how he came to ‘solve’ the painting to a girl. At first he was confused by the number of things on the painting, until he realized that anything that had the number zero on it meant absolutely nothing. Front and center in the painting are some of Jesus’ disciples, depicted with holy haloes around their heads. The dog says that the disciples really confused him until he realized that the haloes were actually zeroes, and as such they did not matter either.
We’ve gone past this intersection several times, and I have this memory, but only the most recent time we were there (Easter) did I actually bring it up with a: “Do you remember when…?”
And SD swears that, that conversation never happened, and he’s never heard of a book with any plot anything like that. The really strange thing is how tightly that memory is tied to that intersection. The only reasonable explanation (besides that SD has just somehow completely forgotten the book.) is that I dreamt the whole thing at sometime in the past, somehow choosing that intersection as where the dream took place, such that every time I pass it, I recall this memory. Not only that, but I remember it so vividly that there was no doubt in my mind that it had really happened until SD denies remembering it. Even now I’m more convinced that he just forgot than that I dreamt it.