My mind might be a very strange place
I had the strangest dream this morning (and in fact kept hitting the snooze button to finish it). It started off with a recurring dream I've had about a really lovely house, full of neat furniture and trinkets and jewelry, and the nowhere near as lovely family plotting matriarch-icide so that they could have all the pretties. (Man, there was a gorgeous puzzlebox made out of half a dozen kinds of light-colored wood that was beautiful and tricky and I couldn't decide whether figuring out the lock or the wood grain patterns would be more fun.)
This time, I got to the end of the dream, in which they manage to kill the old woman only to find that no, they have *not* evaded police suspicion -- trying to hide lots of the pretties probably didn't help -- and they're trying to throw the police off the scent and get away with the loot. Never mind that it would be theirs by will if they didn't do it. ::sigh:: Idiots. And there's a trailer loaded with loot and we're driving it away from the cops, but they're close, and this is where I get to the really strange part of my brain. I know, while I'm driving, that this is going to end in suicides, and maybe deaths-by-cop, and that even the ones who live through it are going to suffer identity-cide, which should totally be a word. I know all this and I'm still more scared of driving a car pulling a really heavy trailer up the incline of that bridge (and maybe getting dragged back down into people behind me if I do it wrong) than I am of getting shot for helping conspire in a murder. Damn that was a steep-ass bridge!! And the on-ramp was shaped like a giant eagle's/gryphon's head, now that I think about. If you can imagine a steel, Art Deco eagle/gryphon big enough to have the head be a two lane exit ramp, that is.
But yeah. The cops got them, some of them suicided, they never had gotten everything out of the house (or that puzzle box open), the ones who got away were never going to be able to contact each other again (no great loss, bluntly)... but I was more scared of the bridge than the cops. That's just weird.
I do like the fact that yes, really, the bad guys were caught and punished. No wonder I like murder mysteries.
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This time, I got to the end of the dream, in which they manage to kill the old woman only to find that no, they have *not* evaded police suspicion -- trying to hide lots of the pretties probably didn't help -- and they're trying to throw the police off the scent and get away with the loot. Never mind that it would be theirs by will if they didn't do it. ::sigh:: Idiots. And there's a trailer loaded with loot and we're driving it away from the cops, but they're close, and this is where I get to the really strange part of my brain. I know, while I'm driving, that this is going to end in suicides, and maybe deaths-by-cop, and that even the ones who live through it are going to suffer identity-cide, which should totally be a word. I know all this and I'm still more scared of driving a car pulling a really heavy trailer up the incline of that bridge (and maybe getting dragged back down into people behind me if I do it wrong) than I am of getting shot for helping conspire in a murder. Damn that was a steep-ass bridge!! And the on-ramp was shaped like a giant eagle's/gryphon's head, now that I think about. If you can imagine a steel, Art Deco eagle/gryphon big enough to have the head be a two lane exit ramp, that is.
But yeah. The cops got them, some of them suicided, they never had gotten everything out of the house (or that puzzle box open), the ones who got away were never going to be able to contact each other again (no great loss, bluntly)... but I was more scared of the bridge than the cops. That's just weird.
I do like the fact that yes, really, the bad guys were caught and punished. No wonder I like murder mysteries.
Original post on Dreamwidth | Leave a comment on DW | Read
comments on DW