Of Dreams and Jokers
Took a nap with the boy earlier, and this is the one dream I remember...
I was part of an investigative team.
My partner was a forensic psychologist.
Who looked exactly like Morgan Freeman. (I think I got some carry over from Kiss the Girls.)
I don't know what case we were investigating. But the setting was in a hospital--County General or Asylum, I'm not sure--and we were up a few floors, inside an old office, going through some files.
The place itself seemed pretty abandoned. Everyone gone home for the day, perhaps.
I excused myself, needing a quick break, and went down the hall a few feet to where I'd noted a unisex bathroom when we'd passed it earlier.
Standing at the sink, running cold water over my hands and brushing it across the nape of my neck, I didn't notice the sound of any doors opening, but I felt the movement of air currents, heard the shift of rubber soles or of fabric, and glanced into the mirror to see a pair of scruffy shoes come into my line of sight just behind me.
I straightened and went to lunge for something to my right (I don't know what...and apparently I wasn't armed, which makes me question what the hell I was doing as part of this investigative team. Maybe I wasn't law enforcement...)
Only to be grabbed about the waist, spun, and lifted onto the counter.
Strangely, a knife had yet to make an appearance.
But just as I got a good, solid look of the pale, painted face, the wicked eyes, the growing smile...
I woke up.
I never get to any kind of conclusion with these dreams... (Granted, this kind of dream might wind up with my being dead or insane at the conclusion, but I digress.)
Just as things get interesting or take a turn for a more detailed plot line, I wake up.
I was part of an investigative team.
My partner was a forensic psychologist.
Who looked exactly like Morgan Freeman. (I think I got some carry over from Kiss the Girls.)
I don't know what case we were investigating. But the setting was in a hospital--County General or Asylum, I'm not sure--and we were up a few floors, inside an old office, going through some files.
The place itself seemed pretty abandoned. Everyone gone home for the day, perhaps.
I excused myself, needing a quick break, and went down the hall a few feet to where I'd noted a unisex bathroom when we'd passed it earlier.
Standing at the sink, running cold water over my hands and brushing it across the nape of my neck, I didn't notice the sound of any doors opening, but I felt the movement of air currents, heard the shift of rubber soles or of fabric, and glanced into the mirror to see a pair of scruffy shoes come into my line of sight just behind me.
I straightened and went to lunge for something to my right (I don't know what...and apparently I wasn't armed, which makes me question what the hell I was doing as part of this investigative team. Maybe I wasn't law enforcement...)
Only to be grabbed about the waist, spun, and lifted onto the counter.
Strangely, a knife had yet to make an appearance.
But just as I got a good, solid look of the pale, painted face, the wicked eyes, the growing smile...
I woke up.
I never get to any kind of conclusion with these dreams... (Granted, this kind of dream might wind up with my being dead or insane at the conclusion, but I digress.)
Just as things get interesting or take a turn for a more detailed plot line, I wake up.