Lately I seem to have been beset by strange dreams; many small and inconsequential. A few obviously related to topical news items.
What I can remember of them below:
A watch with yellow highlighter
I've rediscovered an old watch in my collection, round faced, you pull out the winding stem and when you turn it behind the numbers there's a yellow highlight that goes forward or back, depending which way you turn it. And I'm playing with it, wondering what it's purpose is, showing it to my daughter, when I look closer and I see that the "highlight" is created by a Q-tip dipped in yellow ink that draws the highlight on the dial when you turn the stem, and erases it when you reverse the direction. And I can see that the dial is made up of paper, frayed and torn at the edges, "it needs repair" I think to myself....
Falling from a jetfighter
I'm flying a highspeed jet but something's gone wrong and so I bail out miles above a tiny lake. The jet plummets into the water, I'm safely descending in my parachute. And as I descend I can see that the lake, small, very deep and set in a crater, has swimmers in it, 2 of whom were narrowly missed by the falling wreckage of my jet, it's lost, the lake is a thousand feet deep and I wonder how I'll recover it when someone on the shore tells me about a special line that has disengaged from the tail of the jet that will allow it to be hauled to the surface, diving beneath the waves I can see it, sure enough...
Of Zombies on the Bayou
And I've gone to search the bayou for bodies from the wreckage of a downed commercial airliner. There's no trace of it, just water and the large Cypress trees that circle the swamp. And there's a small rowboat boat that is drifting, intelligently it seems, towards the shore, I become aware of being watched by what I can only describe as an "alien" intelligence. It's dusk, I can't search any more tonight, and so I make my way to a cottage on the shore, as I pull up on the shore there arise from the swamp 3 bodies, victims of the crash, zombies and they are walking on the water towards me. I lock the cottage, my children are there, I go to send my daughter to bed and then I realize that she shouldn't be sleeping alone in another room, not when we're under seige from the undead, so I bring her into the living room by the fire and snuggle with her while I keep vigil ...
Moose Jaw, The Salvation Army, 2 Ugly Stepsisters and Lisa
I'm in Moose Jaw, a house, family & strangers. I'm talking to 2 girls, one is a brunette, the other a blonde, both in that pretty-ugly zone, not ugly proper but certainly not attractive. The blond is wearing a green satin prom style dress, they're both a bit thick in the bodies, they're the kind of girls you settle for when the girl you really wanted at the bar tells you that the only reason she was talking to you was so that her friends could meet you. So I'm talking to them and somehow they recognize that we grew up together, I tell them they must be wrong, they're too young, I grew up in Moose Jaw, but they begin telling me details and they grew up in Moose Jaw too, and, heck, we're in Moose Jaw right now so why is that strange and somehow they persuade me that I used to cover for their childish misbehaviours. My father discreetly leaves the room to allow us to catch up.
Then I'm in the Salvation Army. It's in a giant old warehouse, light dimly streams through dusty windows, I'm in the book section, high shelves, there are all these vintage 1930's, 40's children's books in french, "Tin Tin" and the like, with the torn and faded paper dustcovers, I take one down to flip through it and in the center I find these deep blue pages covered in signatures of famous people, Walt Disney and the like, and I think that this is a bit of a treasure but there isn't time to be looking at books here, there are greater treasures here, I know it, and as I walk out from the shelves a slightly overweight french man with a charming accent takes the book from me, pressing a loonie into my hand, I'm amused and offended that he thinks I need the loonie so badly, the book was worth more than that but then I rationalize it by thinking that he obviously wants the book more than me....
I look through the store, there are sporting goods, climbing ropes in good conditon for a couple of bucks, nothing I want but deals nonetheless, there are windowed rooms in which there are children playing, the daycare, with all of the children's stuff inside as well, another room with mats on the floor and women doing arobics, the women's stuff is in here but I don't want to go in and interrupt their class to look, there's a hallway that leads to more sporting and recreational areas....
Walking through the warehouse, looking at all the treasures I have a realization, I recognize something (?) - and I'm walking behind a cute, perky brunette who's talking to me:
"Yes, this store was set up in memory of Lisa _____, she lived here for quite a few years you know..."
And I didn't know, didn't know at all.... I chase after her and tell her that I'll buy her lunch if only she'll tell me more....I'm on the verge of understanding something important, vital....
She agrees, still walking in front of me and talking, looking over her shoulder and smiling with big white teeth...
"The thing you have to remember is that Lisa was a sociopath....."
And at that moment it all makes sense.