When you dream of home tonight...
Intense dreams last night. I was living in an old gingerbready-house on top of a system of caves. I think I was a man. There was a large group of us, some sort of clan, families and children. We used the caves, but I don't remember why. The lower, under caves had been lost to us for years, but there were still stories of the people who lived deeper in. They were warriors, insular. They did not mate with outsiders without adopting them into the clan. They did not speak to outsiders. They did not mix their blood or DNA. Sometime within the past generation there was a plague or a war, and they had been cut off. Everyone assumed they died. The caves were blocked from rock falls. In my dream someone found a boy, alone and frightened. Grubby, dirty, hungry, scraped. He was very young, and didn't smile, or know how to smile. We folded him into our family/group, and he learned how to smile, how to talk, how to be happy.
There were haunting noises and weird sightings, and the caves were twisting and full of mysterious new caverns and bolt holes that weren't there before. Suddenly a man and a woman came out of one of them, unheard or seen until they were in front of us. They were dirty, wore torn brown and gray rags. They had angry grim faces and stalked through us in the caves as though we were illusion, didn't exist. I remember being frightened of them, of the way they moved silently, of the way they could appear at will despite our guarding. They passed me and took the boy from my side without looking back. He started screaming, twisting, trying to get back to me. I tried to reach for him, but I couldn't move past the man. "We'll take him now. He is ours," and I couldn't tell if he'd been theirs before, or if they had just decided to take him because they needed children, a new generation. Or if they'd stolen him at some point from someone else, before this. The boy didn't want to go, he liked it with us better, we smiled and laughed and had joy, and didn't make him try to live like a warrior.
I learned [in that dream way] that during the plague there was a strand of DNA that would withstand it (the plague), and somehow everyone's DNA got mixed [look, it's a dream, I don't know] and so even though that lost group of warriors had avoided mixing with us, they had been mass dosed with the DNA [again, dream logic] and we were all "of one blood now." This seemed vitally important at the time. There was a doctor of some sort telling me this. He was earnest - this is how you will keep the boy, this is how we can claim him. I wanted more than anything to grab his hand, he was reaching for me, crying for me. And the gray under cave people kept walking away inexorably into the dark.
Which was not the most pleasant dream in the world to wake up to. There was a lot more to it, but I don't remember any more than that now. The house was yellow. The caves twisted like Dr. Seuss drawings, but all brown clay and rock. The under cave people, I remember their mouths best. The lips were kind of big, but gray and set in flat lines. They wore no expression on their faces but disapproval, an impassive disgust. We were nothing to them.
Huh. I think maybe I've been watching too much TV. Although that doesn't make sense, because the thing I was watching right before bed last night was "Pollyanna." I don't know what my subconscious is trying to tell me with that. Other than I'd better straighten up and fly right. And look out for cave people.
There were haunting noises and weird sightings, and the caves were twisting and full of mysterious new caverns and bolt holes that weren't there before. Suddenly a man and a woman came out of one of them, unheard or seen until they were in front of us. They were dirty, wore torn brown and gray rags. They had angry grim faces and stalked through us in the caves as though we were illusion, didn't exist. I remember being frightened of them, of the way they moved silently, of the way they could appear at will despite our guarding. They passed me and took the boy from my side without looking back. He started screaming, twisting, trying to get back to me. I tried to reach for him, but I couldn't move past the man. "We'll take him now. He is ours," and I couldn't tell if he'd been theirs before, or if they had just decided to take him because they needed children, a new generation. Or if they'd stolen him at some point from someone else, before this. The boy didn't want to go, he liked it with us better, we smiled and laughed and had joy, and didn't make him try to live like a warrior.
I learned [in that dream way] that during the plague there was a strand of DNA that would withstand it (the plague), and somehow everyone's DNA got mixed [look, it's a dream, I don't know] and so even though that lost group of warriors had avoided mixing with us, they had been mass dosed with the DNA [again, dream logic] and we were all "of one blood now." This seemed vitally important at the time. There was a doctor of some sort telling me this. He was earnest - this is how you will keep the boy, this is how we can claim him. I wanted more than anything to grab his hand, he was reaching for me, crying for me. And the gray under cave people kept walking away inexorably into the dark.
Which was not the most pleasant dream in the world to wake up to. There was a lot more to it, but I don't remember any more than that now. The house was yellow. The caves twisted like Dr. Seuss drawings, but all brown clay and rock. The under cave people, I remember their mouths best. The lips were kind of big, but gray and set in flat lines. They wore no expression on their faces but disapproval, an impassive disgust. We were nothing to them.
Huh. I think maybe I've been watching too much TV. Although that doesn't make sense, because the thing I was watching right before bed last night was "Pollyanna." I don't know what my subconscious is trying to tell me with that. Other than I'd better straighten up and fly right. And look out for cave people.