The Cheating Dream
What a dream, I’m telling you. Began with my wife and I on a spiritual pilgrimage. We stopped at a small place that seemed to be built inside a cave. They were studying odd phenomena. Included were a series of three holes in the cave’s walls. The holes were square. They didn’t know how they got there. People studied them to see if they were changing or static. My wife suggested I should study them because she thought me good at analyzing things. At the group’s insistence, I gave it a shot.
The holes were very dusty. When I looked into them, I could see that they slanted down and to the left. They seemed to have a flap door on the right side which could cover them. That was part of the controversy. Discussions were revolving whether those flap had always been there, and if the holes were now dustier than they used to be.
I’d glanced at each of the holes when I approached them, then went to the first one on the left. The group provided me sketches which the group had made, so I could look for differences. The first two were examined and no changes were seen. But I immediately saw changes on the third hole, on the right. I pointed it out in excitement, asking a member of the group if he saw the change. This hole was also lit from below. I was intensely interested in climbing into the hole and going down into it, but was also afraid of what was there. I kept leaning in, listening while watching for differences.
My wife had been behind me to my left while this was going on. Now she said, “I’m going to look around. Remember that we need to make a decision before 8:30, and then we’ll go.” Then she walked off.
I kept studying the hole. Suddenly I realized that it was 3 AM. Time had flown past. I was alone. I asked, “Where is my wife?” I walked around looking for her, complaining to myself but aloud, “We were supposed to make a decision hours ago, and leave. Where did she go?”
Opening a door, I discovered my wife in bed with a young white man with short blonde hair. He was very skinny, no one I know from real life.
When the door opened, they separated. Realizing it was me, the man was whimpering and trying to get out of bed and run.
He fell onto the floor. I stormed across the room and grabbed him by his head. He screamed and started crying. A small, round, white table was beside the bed. I prepared to slam his head against the table.
I stopped myself as I bent to do it. He was part of this but what would hurting or killing him do? I paused, thinking about that.
My wife grabbed my arm. “Michael, stop. Please don’t hurt him.”
I turned my head toward her and snapped, “Don’t touch me.”
She pulled her head away and stepped back. I let go of the man and turned toward her. “You did this,” I said. “You started this.”
It took me over an hour to go back to sleep.
Unbefloofed (floofinition) – To be without an animal or animals, especially farm animals or housepets.
In use: “His dog passed a week after the cat, both startling, sudden events, and he found himself unbefloofed for the first time since he’d become an adult, opening the door for a crow to come into his life.”
Saturday’s Wandering Thought
He still follows the three S school of discipline for washing pots and pans: Soap ’em, Soak ’em, Scrub ’em.
Saturday’s Theme Music
May 13. Saturday. 2023.
The sun rose before me, a little before six AM. Gonna be hot again. 63 F now. Some say it’ll reach 86 F in Ashlandia. Others pronounce 90 will be the temp top. 97 F is in others’ forecasts. All three may actually be right, depending upon which part of the city you’re in. I believe we’ll see 91 in my locale. Hit 82 F yesterday.
Gorgeous out there right now. All green and blue. Mellow mountain breeze is sloping down into the open back doors. The cats come in, come by me for a welfare check and to see if I’m eating or doing anything of interest, and meowder back out.
Yardwork is in my future after the writing session, as the last rain cycle caused weeds to explode in height and density. I’ll cull the dandies a bit but we let them stay. Bees like ’em.
Terrible dream last night. Vivid and intense. Took me about an hour before slumber crawled back in me.
But the day’s song comes from a walk yesterday. Up from the wells of 1969 came “Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man” by the Bob Seger System. Found an interesting video of it being performed by a young and beardless Bob Seger. Never seen him without a beard. I always believed he was born with a beard. The set is fascinating as well. It’s an energetic rendition.
Stay pos and take Saturday like a happy pill. Coffee is tugging my leash so I’m going on. Here’s the beats as heard over fifty years ago. Cheers