magic – Page 2 – Michael Seidel, writer

I’ve been experiencing many messy dreams lately, just full of chaos, a far cry from my normally orderly dream sequences.

A remembered dream from last night flowed from chasing kittens to distractions about flowers and weather to examining hair on my face. Then more lucid sequences jumped in.

I was given a brown bag of sandwiches. Hungry, pleased, I thanked the individual giving them to me (unseen off dream), went off a few steps and opened the bag to eat. First sandwich was egg salad on wheat bread — delicious. I scarfed the food down. Still hungry, I opened the bag and discovered three sandwiches were inside. One was hot meatballs with melted cheese which smelled amazing. Someone came by. They looked hungry, so I offered them a sandwich, which they accepted. Overhearing the transaction, another person hurried over, told me that they were hungry, and asked if I had another sandwich to spare.

I did, I answered, and opened the bag. Five sandwiches were inside. Flabbergasted, I thought that I must have miscounted. I realized one was an egg salad on wheat and another was another meatball with melted cheese. Another person had come up, hoping to get a sandwich, so I gave them one and saw that I had more sandwiches. Though incredulous and suspicious, that made me laugh. I told the others about how the bag seemed to be magic, because every time I took sandwich out, several more appeared in it. We all talked about this and how it seemed impossible because the bag was small, but I showed them that there were five sandwiches in the bag. Then I took two sandwiches out and now had seven sandwiches in the bag.

Taking two sandwiches out for myself for later, I gave them the bag and told them to share the sandwiches with others. But after they removed sandwiches, they told me that it wasn’t working any longer. I took the bag back, put one of my sandwiches in, and pulled it out. Voila, more sandwiches. It was only working for me, we all agreed, so I would keep the bag.

Though that decision was easily made, we talked about why the bag worked for me, and how it worked. I didn’t want to claim any special talents or anything and held firm that I didn’t know why, and rebuked them for suggesting gods or fates were rewarding me. The suggestion made me cringe. After passing out more sandwiches, I walked away and stood on a dusty hill in sunshine.

While I was there, I was told that I didn’t need to eat. The speaker was unseen but to my left. I laughed and mocked them. They told me that I had two receptacles installed in my body. Under questioning and searching I learned that two black receptacles were installed on the underside of my right upper arm. I didn’t know how they got there, so I was pretty amazed.

One was about four inches in diameter and fully black, with a flap on it. The other was smaller, about an inch wide, with a blue plug sticking up out of it. I knew without being told that the large one was for being fed knowledge and the tiny one was for taking in food.

Two children arrived with hoses to fill me. I warned them, “Don’t put the wrong hoses in,” which made me laugh because of the receptacles’ size difference.

Dream end

White billows of clouds push and pull across the blue sky. Sunshine bullies the southern and eastern views. “Gorgeous,” the cats say.

I agree with them. This Friday, March 10, 2023, it’s 39 F outside but sunny, with a high of 50 expected. Showers for the next five days, the weather minions tell me with a wink. Highs about 50 F, low of 36. Ashlandia’s weather is sliding closer to its norm. The winds have settled into an infrequent light breeze, but they gave us a rainy tussle yesterday, shoving people around, fighting against car doors being shut, trying to rip hats and clothes off, and mangling umbrellas.

Today’s sun presence began at dawn, a little before 6:32 AM, and will continue for almost twelve hours. All that changes on Sunday. We’re springing ahead. Sunrise won’t be until 7:30 then, but we’ll have more shine on the day’s tail end. Of course, it means less sleep because if I get up at my usual time, it’ll be an hour later.

I have the song, “Magic”, by Pilot (1973) in my head. Dream stuff. In the dream, I was going through an almost empty city looking for magic. While it was a modern city, I wore dusty old white robes, bit torn, with sandals, and had been walking for a long time. At first, I didn’t know what I was looking for but then, in the dream, it came to me, I’m looking for magic. With that, I started the air for magic, following my nose, letting it lead me, and then looking. I came across others and spoke to them about it, and sometimes cars would drive by, but no one was helping me. I stayed on my own. Then, voila, walked around a corner. There was a aluminum briefcase against the wall. With some surprise, I knew it was mine. I thought I’d lost it years before. Opening it, I found magic.

Thinking about the dream later, I kept wondering what did I see in the briefcase that I knew it was magic? But, like the movie Pulp Fiction, I never saw the briefcase’s contents. Gold didn’t come out of my briefcase, though, and I never thought or said it was beautiful. Then, though, The Neurons came through with Pilo out of my childhood.

Stay pos. This is Friday. Pretty exciting, huh? Well, all kinds of approaches can be employed for Friday. Me, it’s Friday, time to write again, woo-hoo. That just might be my coffee shouting. I’ve had a cup already.

Here’s the song. Cheers