conversation on a bench in the evening

I remember it was dark and there was a soft light from a window behind us. The glow of candlelight. It was cool but not cold and the leaves scattered around reminded me of the fall. There was a just the slightest hint of frost in the air. He was dressed, oddly enough, in the clothes of one from the turn of the century (the 18th century, that is - think tri-corner hat and cape?). Yet I recognized this contemporary man. He must have spoken to me of the future... I can recall a stillness in the world as if everyone and everything was paused to listen - just listen - for a moment to the words he spoke. Willing to think about the possibilities of the future and abandon the cynicism that has permeated politics since before I was born. We have rarely if ever dared to hope that a leader with the quality of a Lincoln could rise again in our midst. Modern life is too complicated and we have a picture in our minds distorted by time and legacy of 140+ years... I wish I could remember more of the content of the words, but I cannot. I only recall feelings of hope and connection and pride and... and then I awoke...