The Dream of Getting Lost

This dream began with my wife naked in front of me. She was on her knees in a room when I walked in. We flirted and I began kissing her and nibbling her ear lobes. She said, “Let’s move this into the other room.” Aroused and ready, I agreed.

We went into the other room, which was the living room. She said, “I’ll be right back.”

While she was gone, I stripped off my clothes. When she returned, she was fully dressed and had two other women with her. I knew both of them.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

My wife replied, “My book club is arriving.”

Well, that took me aback but I didn’t feel like now was the time to discuss it. Discreetly, I made my way out.

Dressing in the other room, I took off through the local area. It turned out to be a village built on several hills thick with pine and oak trees. The roads were narrow and winding, but I was enjoying my walk.

Going up a steep hill, I found a huge border of tall, trimmed bushes. Slipping through them, I discovered myself at a palatial estate.

A young boy approached. He seemed like he was ten years old. We briefly tossed a baseball back and forth. He told me that this was his house and invited me in to see it. “It’s like a museum,” he finished.

My curiousity had grown. The house presented a huge, jumbled, modern appearance of arches and glass, with multiple types of materials finishing the facade, complementing the many large, dark windows.

I entered the house with him. The boy was right; the first room we entered was tall and broad. Art and aniquities filled the space. Walking around, I gawked at art pieces. Several were Picasso pieces, from the cubist and blue periods. I was astounded to find them in a house in a small village and thought the people who owned the property must be very wealthy.

The boy who was my host had left. Nervous about being alone there, I was accosted by a woman coming down a large spiral staircase. Brunette, slender, not tall, and very attractive, she wore blue jeans and a red top. She seemed to be about the same age as me.

“Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

I explained why I was there. Her son came down and verified my story. Nervous, I decided to leave. She protested that I didn’t need to leave. We began walking around, looking at art and antiques. Standing very close to me, she told about how they came to own the pieces. Acting on impulse, I kissed her.

I prepared to be slapped or rush out, and apologize. In response, she took my hand behind a screen and kissed me. I was both excited and worried. She kept leading me into nooks and niches, kissing me and encouraging my advances.

Then her son said, “Hi, Dad.”

I was horrified that the woman’s husband was with us. Dressed in black slacks and a white shirt, he was silver haired with black streaks, slightly taller than myself, and a few years older.

The woman introduced me to him. I thought any dalliance with the woman was over, but she continued leading me to secluded places, where we made out with teenagers. I saw the husban suspiciously eyeing me. Not wanting a confrontation, I left.

The wife caught up with me outside and gave me her number, asking me to call her so we can meet and finish what we started. I was dubious. The whole thing was crazy. I left her without promising anything but kept the number, sticking it into a pocket.

Darkened skies had taken over while I inside. Now going up another hill past throngs of people shopping in many small shops and boutiques, I remembered that a book store was up the hill and headed there to buy a book for my wife. After chatting with the owner, I purchased the book and headed down another stretch of hill. It was later and darker, and I wasn’t sure where I was. Thinking I knew a shortcut, I took a few turns.

I ended up completely lost in a maze of small white shops along an alley. Big raindrops began striking me and splattering along the ground. Stopping at a bakery, I bought pastries for me and my wife. The rain intensified while I was in the bakery. As I opened the door to leave, the shopkeeper urged me to stay inside until the rain stopped.

I declined. Going out, I was quickly drenched. I still didn’t know where I was and kicked myself for not asking for directions at the bakery. I kept going, though, believing that I would find my way. It didn’t help that the sun was behind clouds, and the rain was so thick that I couldn’t see far.

Then, unexpectedly, I saw two trees and knew where I was. Seeing my house, I hurried to the covered front porch. Sopping wet, I stood on the porch, ate a pastry, and watched the rain as dusk heralded night’s entrance.