Dream: The Piano is Very Cold
Wednesday, December 12th:
The creature looked like a reddish-pink blob of glass supported by five multi-jointed legs. A transparent pink field surrounded it, slowly changing shape, like a pear-shaped bubble in slow-motion. It was only about the size of a grapefruit (or a watermelon, counting the bubble), but it made me uncomfortable. Sitting in the breakfast nook in the house where I grew up, I worried about the extra-dimensional invaders; another blob-spider lurked in the corner. They were hard to see sometimes, and I was afraid of what might happen if I stumbled into one. Sometimes I could only see them scooting away from my approach, and I hoped they were afraid of me. Sara glimpsed them once or twice, but she seemed unconcerned.
A tiny drop of bioluminescent goo crawled across the carpet. No bigger than a millimeter, it glowed like a little white LED. It stuck to my fingers when poked, then to my jeans when I panicked. I managed to brush it off, and it disappeared into the lumpy, mold-colored carpet that covered the oldest rooms in our house.
I came back to the breakfast nook and spotted several of the blob-spiders in the room. Sara unwrapped her lunch at the desk. I wanted to chase out the blob-spiders with my flashlight; I was certain they needed their pink bubbles to protect them from the matter and energy in our world, and shining a bright light at them would force them back. Sara patted the chair beside her and told me I should keep her company while she ate. I put my flashlight away and stepped carefully into the room; the blobs were already harder to see.
Sara put away her dishes, then we rearranged the desk and the chairs. Something silly happened, she patted me on the shoulder. I ended up on the floor so that we could both get an angle on the furniture we were moving. We pushed it into place despite the cramped quarters, then i kissed her on the knee. That was stupid, I thought. I'd better not do that again.
I stood up and looked around. The blobs were gone, but another glowing droplet crawled across the floor, so I knew they had to be nearby. I stared at the big machine sitting on the other side of the room, imagined them hiding in the round chamber that ran the length of the device. I peered into the dark opening, hoping they wouldn't pounce on me, and tried to count from memory; how many blobs might be hiding in here? Five.
My mom arrived and asked, 'How many of these do you still need?' She was looking at the ice cream Sara and I stored underneath the pianostill frozen, but some of it was pretty old.
'I want to keep both of them,' I replied, 'at least until Sara gets back.'
'There are five,' she said. Sara walked in. 'Uhh... seven.'
I crouched down and counted through the flavors. The gallon was oldest, probably freezer-burned. We had three different vanilla-looking flavors, but one of them was something else"plain," or "cream," or maybe "lily."
'Do you remember buying this?' I asked Sara.
The rest were quarts of vanilla-with-stuff, like Butter-Pecan or Tin Roof Sundae, and a couple had fresh fruit in them. No chocolate. Chocolate ice cream is lousy.
The creature looked like a reddish-pink blob of glass supported by five multi-jointed legs. A transparent pink field surrounded it, slowly changing shape, like a pear-shaped bubble in slow-motion. It was only about the size of a grapefruit (or a watermelon, counting the bubble), but it made me uncomfortable. Sitting in the breakfast nook in the house where I grew up, I worried about the extra-dimensional invaders; another blob-spider lurked in the corner. They were hard to see sometimes, and I was afraid of what might happen if I stumbled into one. Sometimes I could only see them scooting away from my approach, and I hoped they were afraid of me. Sara glimpsed them once or twice, but she seemed unconcerned.
A tiny drop of bioluminescent goo crawled across the carpet. No bigger than a millimeter, it glowed like a little white LED. It stuck to my fingers when poked, then to my jeans when I panicked. I managed to brush it off, and it disappeared into the lumpy, mold-colored carpet that covered the oldest rooms in our house.
I came back to the breakfast nook and spotted several of the blob-spiders in the room. Sara unwrapped her lunch at the desk. I wanted to chase out the blob-spiders with my flashlight; I was certain they needed their pink bubbles to protect them from the matter and energy in our world, and shining a bright light at them would force them back. Sara patted the chair beside her and told me I should keep her company while she ate. I put my flashlight away and stepped carefully into the room; the blobs were already harder to see.
Sara put away her dishes, then we rearranged the desk and the chairs. Something silly happened, she patted me on the shoulder. I ended up on the floor so that we could both get an angle on the furniture we were moving. We pushed it into place despite the cramped quarters, then i kissed her on the knee. That was stupid, I thought. I'd better not do that again.
I stood up and looked around. The blobs were gone, but another glowing droplet crawled across the floor, so I knew they had to be nearby. I stared at the big machine sitting on the other side of the room, imagined them hiding in the round chamber that ran the length of the device. I peered into the dark opening, hoping they wouldn't pounce on me, and tried to count from memory; how many blobs might be hiding in here? Five.
My mom arrived and asked, 'How many of these do you still need?' She was looking at the ice cream Sara and I stored underneath the pianostill frozen, but some of it was pretty old.
'I want to keep both of them,' I replied, 'at least until Sara gets back.'
'There are five,' she said. Sara walked in. 'Uhh... seven.'
I crouched down and counted through the flavors. The gallon was oldest, probably freezer-burned. We had three different vanilla-looking flavors, but one of them was something else"plain," or "cream," or maybe "lily."
'Do you remember buying this?' I asked Sara.
The rest were quarts of vanilla-with-stuff, like Butter-Pecan or Tin Roof Sundae, and a couple had fresh fruit in them. No chocolate. Chocolate ice cream is lousy.