Category: writing

Four Microdreams

I had a series of flash microdreams last night.

In the first, I was editing/revising my manuscript, Unfocused. I awoke confused whether I’d been awake or asleep. Falling back asleep, I experienced the novel as a movie.

Another microdream slipped in. I reached for a green glass tumbler which had water in it. When I tasted it, it was coffee, but it stayed clear.

A man asked me to marry him. Then I thought it was me asking him. Then I thought, I’m both men.

Then I ate a chocolate chip muffin from a tray. Finishing it, I wanted more.

End

0

A Traveling Dream – with Pie!

I was packing all my personal goods up. Part of that was a lot of money, which I and arranged in boxes, cases, bags, and scheduled it to be picked up and taken east.

That done, I sought transportation for myself. I found a bus and bought tickets. Inside were blue seats. I found an open seat and sat. The bus’s seating reminded me more of a widebody jet, except, I saw, it was arranged in a star pattern. Either way, I thought it unusual for a bus and too big.

A crotchety woman was managing the passengers. She announced our itinerary. We were in Maine, heading for New York!

That was wrong! I was supposed to be on the west coast, going east. That’s where I packed my stuff.

Now I worried about my stuff. Had I sent it in the wrong direction?

Then I worried about all that money I’d packed away, fretting that somebody might steal it. I shouldn’t have left it like that, and I should have brought more with me.

A young dark-haired woman in red clothing was in the seat next to me. I recognized her but she apparently didn’t remember me. I played a sly little game, ‘guessing’ things about her because I knew her. She was amazed by how I correctly guessed.

They announced we were in New York and would have a rest stop. The crotchety woman came around serving us slices of pie. I took two pieces and passed them on to other passengers, then ate the third piece. It seemed like some kind of runny custard pie. I didn’t care much for the filling so I only ate the crust.

We arrived at our destination. I don’t know where it was but began looking for my stuff, anxious about how much of it I’d find there. Several of my bags were discovered. Inside them were bundles of cash. I gave some to another traveler because they needed help.

The dream ended as I was walking toward a building, finding and picking up more of my bags.

0

Dreaming: Not My Glass

I was at a very crowded camp. We were outside. Lot of activity going on, including food and drink being served, and eating. I was not alone but with a group of friends and casual acquaintances, but it seemed to change throughout the dream.

Two parts retain clarity. One, I was drinking red wine in goblets. Almost everyone was, so it was challenging to track what drink belonged to who. Two, a group of Black friends were talking about movies and books. I’d not heard of either one.

One showed me a book. It was thin children’s book. I think it was called Riverrun City. When he showed me the cover, it showed brown cartoon bears moving across it. I thought I’d heard of the book but admitted I’d not read it. I made promises to try to do so as they encouraged me.

I went back to get my glass of wine but couldn’t find it. I recalled that I’d just filled it and set it aside – out of the way – so nobody else would pick it up by accident. It wasn’t where I remembered I put it and thought, I either mis-remembered, or someone moved it.

I spotted another glass at a different location. It could be mine, but I wasn’t sure. I walked around looking but also understood, how the hell am I supposed to know what glass is ‘mine’? They all looked alike.

I went back to that one which ‘might’ be mine. There seemed to be brown fibers floating in it. I tasted it; it tasted like tobacco juice.

This is not my glass, I decided.  

0

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑