I don’t know exactly where this took place. The POV often changed. Sometimes it was upclose and personal, as though looking from my eyes. Other times, I saw myself from several feet away.
I was in my mid-thirties, as so, and in a large, white place. I don’t know what it was. Definitely didn’t seem like a church. Pews were absent, along with any other religious clues. Sand white carpet was underfoot, complimenting the white walls. A huge cathedral ceiling with tall windows dominated.
I’d been there for a period and knew the area. At this point, I was watching others. Many were attempting to fly things which looked like a kite and a mylar balloon had offspring. None were large. Many looked like π. Another appeared to be a long, mildly curved tablet. As I watched people trying strings to these and trying to fly them, I thought, they’re all doing this wrong. Getting my hands on a π, I went to the highest point that I could find and threw myself off.
The highest point was only about twenty-six feet tall. The height was enough for me to hold π to my chest, jump off, and fly around the room. As I did, I grasped that I could gently shift π and change my course, feather, and wheel, which I did. Others all stopped to ogle what I was doing. After I landed, they clamored for explanation about how I did this. I started trying to teach them but they struggled. Meanwhile, I wanted one of the curved tablets. I thought that I could really do things with it.
Around then, a car drove up. The driver’s window went down. It was the guy in chair and his wife. He called me over for a conversation. He said, “I hear that you’re flying these things.” I was distracted, looking for one of the tablets. Airborne, I was waiting for it to descend low enough for me to grab it. After I replied, “Yes,” to him, the boss man continued, smiling, “Well, I’m not at all surprised. I always thought that if anyone could, it’d be you.” Flattered, I answered, “Yes, but there’s more to come with these.” Responding, I’m looking forward to that, he drove away.
I caught a tablet. Taking it to the highest spot, I leaped off. As I plunged toward the ground, I gently invoked a mild bend in the tablet. It instantly took me back up to the ceiling. As I thought, its bend and shape provided more lift and control. As the others watched, gasping at what I was doing, I sailed around the room, diving at people, rolling, and then soaring back up.
By now, some children had learned to fly π. They began trying to follow me. I led them on short trips around the complex. Unlike the cathedral, the complex was a labyrinth of low dark tunnels opening onto square rooms where orange light glowed.
As I went down one tunnel on a tablet followed by a few children on π, I encountered another child flying a π in the other direction. As I moved to let her by, I caught my tablet on something stuck out of the wall and went into a spin. Unfazed, I righted myself and went on, impressing everyone because the spin barely slowed me down.
Dream end. I felt great throughout the dream, and smiled when I remembered it after I awoke.
Solarfloof (floofinition) – Another expression for a sunfloof.
In use: “Animals who enjoy lazing, lounging, or sleeping in pools of sunshine, who move with the sun across spaces, or sit with their face to the sun are often called sunfloofs or solarfloofs.”
Related: Sunfloof; heliosfloof
It’s 76 F this Monday morning, the first of August, 2022. Turn the page, as Seger sang.
A high of 90 F is expected today. So are thunderstorms. Thunderstorms rolled through in a big way last night around midnight. No local lightning. More fires were ignited in the Cascades.
The smoke has shifted away this morning. Our good fortune but others are suffering somewhere. Firefighters are strategizing and working to contain numerous blazes in California and Oregon. The fires’ names and situation replace city tax and budget matters and lost pets on our local social media.
Sunrise, at 6:03 AM, was more normal. Sunset will be at 8:33 PM. They say our temperatures are going to drop into the 80s F this week and return to average range in the mid to upper nineties next week.
The Neurons have songs in the morning mental music stream, oh yes. Saw the setting sun last night as the smoke thinned and the clouds parted to open the sunset show. It looked like a “Red Rubber Ball”. Written by Paul Simon, which I didn’t know for years, Cyrkle had a hit with it in 1966. I vividly remember hearing it as I played on the patio of our Vernoa rental house.
Second song, yeah, “Tequila Sunrise” by the Eagles, 1973, also a reflection of last night’s sunset. My mind keeps bringing up morning songs in response to evening settings. It’s like everything is reversed. Maybe it’s reverse week, you know, where up is down and left is right. Does that happen in your reality?
The third song is about the Fitbit missing from my wrist. I go to check the steps or the time every hour, as it’s trained me to do. The tracker isn’t there so The Neurons immediately rip off the Zombies song and sing, “It’s not there,” a pull on “She’s Not There” by the Zombies from 1964. Santana covered it later. Both versions have been theme songs here, along with the first two tunes. What to do?
Reject The Neurons, of course! Here’s “Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake (1982). Ha! Take that, Neurons!
BTW, it’s National Exclamation Day in my reality today!
Stay positive and test negative, my friends. Stay cool and safe, or warm and safe, or dry and safe, whatever works for your weather situation. Maybe you’re a fortunate and have a lovely weather day in progress. Enjoy it.
Here’s la musica! Where’s le coffee?!!