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illusionofjoyEvery now and again the strange dreams will come back. For the past two nights I've had such dreams. I can't say that I found last night's very enjoyable, as it was a direct reflection of a recent run-in I had with someone who, to put it mildly, deserves a long trip off of a short precipice.
The night before, however, was fascinating. I think I've found a nice piece of fodder for some sort of science-fiction movie. This is, of course, assuming I wished to exploit my dreams in such a way. I'm willing to bet that the minute I did that, I'd suddenly find myself unable to remember any of my dreams.
It started with the Asian Goddess. In what manner it began with her, I can't remember. She seems to be fading in many ways, and my dreams are no exception.
The next thing I remember is sitting in a rowboat, which is floating in a pond barely large enough to hold it. I can see the grassy bottom of this indentation in the Earth, which holds the water upon which my craft floats and there is a large tree shading the tiny pond, it's leaves gently falling into the water. Right next to where the pond's edge is a well-worn sidewalk made out of asphalt. My mother is standing on the sidewalk, looking at me as I sit in the boat.
"Well," she says to me, "what do you plan on doing?"
I obviously don't expect the question, nor for her to be standing there, for that matter. "I think I'll go to Italy," I say wistfully.
"Good."
"There's just a problem...I have this trip to Italy coming but I have no money--" I'm suddenly serious about this endeavour. Any whimsy has left my voice.
She then hands me an envelope and the whole scene dissolves. I'm now standing at a giant terminal of some sort. I'm not sure what it is at first, but I soon discover that it is a train station.
These are no ordinary trains, however. I enter one of the cars, and it is about as large as a basketball court. It is also very well furbished. There are three levels, which all of the passengers are allowed to walk between during the duration of the trip. The first level is filled with seats, while the second is filled with bars, restaurants, etc. and the third is a large open area with seats and tables to the sides and a balcony overlooking the second. The upper levels have windows and tall ceilings.
I walk up to the third level, and settle at one of the tables across from an older gentleman. He has wavy hair, once fully brown, that is showing signs of greying as he combs it in such a way as to hide a bald spot that hasn't had a chance to make massive territorial gains on his dome, but likely will in a few years. He is wearing a grey pinstriped suit, which is perhaps in need of a good ironing but is otherwise presentable. We strike up a conversation that lasts for the duration of the trip.
The megatrain departs from the station, and somehow I know that it is bound for Europe (Britain, specifically) and will arrive in about three hours. The train travels through a large tunnel under the Atlantic Ocean. I am suddenly privy to the knowledge that such a thing is possible where I am at currently, because scientists were able to stop the movement of the Earth's tectonic plates. Since the plates no longer moved, there would be no more Earthquakes and supertunnels connecting the continents were possible. This all suddenly seemed natural to me, as if it had always been.
"What is the date," I asked the nameless older gentleman sitting across from me.
Without missing a beat or acting as if this question were in the least bit odd, he told me that it was July of 1977. He either said that it was the 7th or the 17th, but I really can't sure at this point. I do know that I pondered the date for a few moments and then said, "so this isa parallel dimension."
The man only nodded.
I watched the massive walls of the underwater tunnel through my window in the megatrain. The walls were made of concrete cinderblocks, which were spay-painted deep blue at even increments. There were small caged incandescent bulbs over the blue areas, revealing a very dismal and dirty route. It would be quite unpleasant to be a worker in this trans-Atlantic tunnel, I was certain.
The megatrain surfaced at the other end of the tunnel and I suddenly saw land from my little window. Just as suddenly, I found myself in an aerial view above the megatrain. Looking down, I could see the tracks that my train travelled upon merging with several others. There were trains on those tracks coming straight for my train!
"They're going to crash," I exclaimed.
"No, they're not," came the older gentleman's voice, "this is the merging."
At that, I watched as the cars of all the trains came together, zipperlike to form one very long megatrain. After watching this take place, my point of view shifted back into my body, as I sat inside my car.
The train came to a stop at the station and I disembarked with the gentleman. He and I were walking outside the station when we suddenly ran into a group of thugs. They were teenagers, looking like they had just robbed a thrift store for their wardrobe. Two of them walked over to the man, and one brandished a knife.
"Strip," he said in an accent that was certainly not European in any way, shape or form. He held the knife up, threatening to cut the man.
"Not bloody likely," I called out, concentrating intently on the two thugs that were closest to me. The air about them warped momentarily, as if a great heat haze had suddenly swept through and the thugs I'd been concentrating on fell to the ground, convulsing.
That was when I woke up.
