The Toes & Elephant Dream

I was at some kind of crowded business where I was – again – a young man.

Nobody familiar was with me at that point. A hectic atmosphere surrounded me as people rushed around, doing things.

I was rushing, too. I’d just sealed an envelope. I needed postage to mail it. I stepped up to the postage area as a young woman finished using it. Fumbling through what to do, I pressed buttons to get stamps. Streams of paper spewed out. I thought, are those stamps?

No, I saw, those were someone’s receipts. That woman was gone and I was in a hurry, and others were waiting, so I tossed those aside. Now – ah, I needed to weigh my letter. That done, the machine asked for payment. I pulled out a credit card and tapped it against the machine, amused that I’m using a credit card to pay for a stamp, but that was quickest and easiest

That done, I crossed the wooden floor past knots of people. My wife was sitting on the floor. Beside her was a young French woman I’d previously noticed. Short, she had curly short brown hair. I was barefoot, and so was the woman.

I spoke with them briefly, then went off to get something. Jumping up, the French woman offered to join me, which pleased and flattered me. We crossed the wooden floor again.

I spotted a small fuzzy creature crawling across the floor. Thinking it was a kitten, because I knew there was a clowder of kittens in the room, I picked it up.

It was a small pink elephant with gray ears and a gray belly. So small that it fit easily into my palm, it put up its trunk and released a squeaky trumpet. I talked to it, reassuring it that I didn’t mean it any harm, telling it, “I’m going to put you back to where you belong,” which was some kind of baskets with towels on the floor.

After doing that, the French woman pushed her toes up against my toes and gave me a flirty smile. Grinning, I told her, “You have beautiful toes.”

The dream ended.

Bravetoe

His socks had a hole which could have been put there by specification, designed to be part of the sock and inserted on the production line, because they were so regular, but it was the product of his left foot’s great toe. Although the toe and nail resembled common toes (and nails), the toe continually used its nail to cut its way out.

Although it’d been happening with his socks for years, it wasn’t until he saw it on his shoes that awareness took on significance. He liked to walk and purchased many shoes for that purpose. The latest generation of Adidas, New Balance, Nike, Under Armour, and Saucony activity shoes that he wore were made of a mesh material. He’d read the material was made of recycled plastic. (He’d never looked it up on the net because he didn’t trust the information on the net, and vetting it as truth required hours of work. He also privately admitted (that is, to himself) that he hoped it was true that the shoes were made of recycled plastic.) The thing is, his big toe was cutting up through his activity shoes’ mesh. There wasn’t anything on his right foot. It was only the left.

Because he had an active imagination, he began to watch the toe more often, specifically trimming its nail back in an effort to slow down its escape efforts. Imaging his toe crying, “Freedom,” as Mel Gibson had when he portrayed William Wallace in a movie, he nicknamed his toe Bravetoe. It was partly whimsy, but also acknowledgement that the toe had a personality and seemed to have a goal.

And a toe like that, who knows what it would do if it ever escaped its prison? He suspected it would probably inspire the rest of the toes to try to do the same, a possibility that he did not want to contemplate.

Although he did.

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