Just a Dream
I dreamt my neighbors took me to a service at their church, which somehow ended up leading to a funeral. Since I'm no stranger to funerals, I went without fuss, but then we arrived at the cemetery. It was a night service and instead of a coffin, there was a litter with an old woman curled up on it - and she was still moving. Barely. She opened her eyes. She was waiting to die and the moment she did, into the grave she'd go. It was a new kind of horrible for me, so I stumbled away to wait it out. I think my neighbors agreed to take me home (and it's not like they'd ever take me to that in real life, thank God).
But then, the scene changed. It was a clear blue day, afternoon, and Amy was visiting with her baby. (It might've been a Sunday, since Amy seemed to be in her church clothes.) A little tremor started and as I asked Amy "Did you feel that?" she was sitting on my couch. Since it kept going, we both got in places where stuff wouldn't fall on us, and it was strange to think that it was Liam's first earthquake. But it wasn't that bad.
But later that day, when Marshall stopped by with the boy in tow, it happened again, and it was worse. Earthquakes are scarier when you've got delicate little people around but Liam was all right in his carrier. And for some reason, maybe because it's the style during a natural disaster, we started reciting the Lord's Prayer. I remember hearing the words very clearly in my dream, but I let Marshall go first because my dream-self was aware he'd memorized some newer version of it in those modernized Bibles I tend to dislike.
Not that I can give much credence to dreams like these. I haven't remembered many of mine lately, probably because I haven't been sleeping as deeply. And besides, in my next dream, a nice cop pulled me over and I was having the devil's own time trying to find my license. But he was actually being sweet, and making these flirty excuses to touch me, and either he was this close to asking for a date or we were this close to starting the porn music in the background. Which just goes to show, there's more of Freud and less to fear in a string of dreams that barely make sense.
But then, the scene changed. It was a clear blue day, afternoon, and Amy was visiting with her baby. (It might've been a Sunday, since Amy seemed to be in her church clothes.) A little tremor started and as I asked Amy "Did you feel that?" she was sitting on my couch. Since it kept going, we both got in places where stuff wouldn't fall on us, and it was strange to think that it was Liam's first earthquake. But it wasn't that bad.
But later that day, when Marshall stopped by with the boy in tow, it happened again, and it was worse. Earthquakes are scarier when you've got delicate little people around but Liam was all right in his carrier. And for some reason, maybe because it's the style during a natural disaster, we started reciting the Lord's Prayer. I remember hearing the words very clearly in my dream, but I let Marshall go first because my dream-self was aware he'd memorized some newer version of it in those modernized Bibles I tend to dislike.
Not that I can give much credence to dreams like these. I haven't remembered many of mine lately, probably because I haven't been sleeping as deeply. And besides, in my next dream, a nice cop pulled me over and I was having the devil's own time trying to find my license. But he was actually being sweet, and making these flirty excuses to touch me, and either he was this close to asking for a date or we were this close to starting the porn music in the background. Which just goes to show, there's more of Freud and less to fear in a string of dreams that barely make sense.