Category: miscellaneous

The Space Snake Dream

I was brought on to help create a new vehicle for people to travel. As I walked with the team, talking outside, I saw a small red and yellow snake. Ideas lit up my mind. I sketched out a plan for us to develop a design based on a snake. Objections quicky rose. Growing more excited, I explained how we would use small segments, giving the snake great flexibility. Each segment would be a living, working or storage compartment, etc. Our travel snake would be able to turn in multiple ways.

They told me it was supposed to be for space. I got more excited, telling them that we can develop multiple small segments, just like the other segments, which would be used for propulsion. They could be interspersed along the snake’s body.

While I was telling these things, the snake was being built. Without a short while, I saw it fly over some brown mountains and land nearby. I skipped through the sky to it. The snake’s segments were much larger than I’d suggested and its overall length blew away my expectations. Someone said, it’s getting ready to go.

By that point the sun was setting. The cloudless sky had grown deep indigo and purple. A few stars and satellites populated the zenith. Looking up, I watched the white snake, people visible in windows lit with a soft yellow-tinted light, climb into space on a blue flame.

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Wednesday’s Wandering Thought

He and his friend exchanged hellos. The follow up to his friend, “How you doing today?”

The other boomed a laugh. “Great. I can walk today.”

As both laughed, he said to his friend, “It’s interesting how your standards and goals change as you age, isn’t it?”

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Zoomies

Bad weather keeps floofs inside

Where they race around, slide, and glide

Kicking dust up with their paws

Damaging furniture with teeth and claws

Picking up speed, they race and jump

Making us freeze as we hear a distant thump

Leaving us to wonder and shake our heads

Wishing they’d calm down and go to bed

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A Mom Dream

I was visiting Mom’s place. She was younger than RL, more aligned with the mom known throughout most of my adulthood.

I was younger, but my sisters were their current agents. Their children were present, too, contemporary as adults to me.

Visiting Mom’s place was a process of exploring because she’d moved. On the bottom floor, décor in shades of gray, black, and white dominated. The building was long and wide. I went outside to check out her backyard. I discovered trimmed trees organized in rows. I wondered if they were fruit trees and looked for evidence of that but found nothing conclusive. While I was looking, I inadvertently broke off one branch. Embarrassed, I didn’t want to be caught and looked around for somewhere to hide the branch. Looking up, I saw Mom watching me and smiling from a window above.

I went back in. As I walked through this floor, I realized it wasn’t a house but an apartment building, and I was in the lobby. My sisters and her children arrived, and then their children’s friends. We started having drinks. Many of the children were talking about the Lockheed C5 Galaxy, a huge transport plane. A dream news story said only two or three remained. Some foreign government was quoted as saying that they wanted the aircraft but the U.S. wouldn’t give them up. Some of the children suggested that if they were the other government, they would steal them. I went into a pedantic explanation about security and how that would be difficult because C5s were labeled ‘Priority A’. I suggested that if the C5s were stolen, the U.S. would probably shoot them down so that others couldn’t have them.

We went outside, to the building’s front after this conversation, where the party expanded, becoming louder, concerning me about disturbing the building’s residents. People proposed going to other places. I said that I would need to change.

Then Mom called down to me on the intercom. I answered it. She was asking me if I could go get something for her, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying because her voice was very weak through the intercom. Others came over to help interpret what Mom asked for. I thought she was saying that she wanted some pills like the ones I’d gotten for her before, and that they were available at a store or locker in the building’s rear, but I couldn’t fully comprehend what she meant.

That’s where the dream ended.  

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Monday’s Wandering Thought

When he did chores at home, he always challenged himself with time limits. Vacuum the floors or wax the furniture by such and such time. What will you give me if I do, his neurons always answered, as he rushed about, intent on his artificial goals.

Other people would probably find it silly, maybe childish, making these fake goals, but these small goals helped prop up the day’s structure and keep time from getting away from him. It worked for him, so what did he care what they cared?

It’s not like anyone knew.

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Sunday’s Wandering Thought

It happened again last night. We were watching a Brit mystery on our television. Not the biggest one, a mammoth 65-inch critter, curved screen digital and all that, but the smaller 36-in digital flat screen that’s in the snug. Most of our living is in the snug. The corner recliner is the number one place for man, woman, and cats. Woman has number one claim on it, chasing the rest of us with sharply worded orders to “Get out.”

But that’s beside the point. The TV screen is big enough and digitally sharp. Not sharp enough for the moment as a character holds up a cell phone to read a text.

“Here we go,” my wife says. “What’s that say? I can’t see that. How am I supposed to see that? And they take it away so fast, I can’t even focus on it before it’s gone.”

She’s got a point. Kind of weird of them to use things like that. They provide us captions FOR THE HARD OF HEARING, as they nicely put it. (Yes, that IS sarcasm.) Would it be so difficult to include the text messages in the captions?

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The White Paint Dream

I’d been alone in some modern office complex and was pretty happy about it. Then three dour men in gray suits with matching hats arrived and announced that they were there to help. All were white, tall, in their forties. They were going to paint. First I needed to clean the areas to be painted.

I rushed about, cleaning white bathrooms with white toilets. Although everything was already bright white, they were painting everything the same color. What was interesting was that the white walls had sharply and deeply etched swirl patterns covering the walls. I thought the walls were already clean but then was appalled to see that dry urine stained some sections. I hastened to find soap, water, and a cloth to clean it. As I did, I found more such stains. Located in such strange places, I wondered how the hell they came to be there?

As I scrambled to clean, some of the first arrivals began painting. Other men arrived to paint. Some came in and watched me cleaning, making comments about the urine stains.

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