I’d stopped remembering my dreams for a while, but for some reason, they’re back where I can see them after I wake up.
On Saturday night I dreamed I was running from a giant. I thought I’d gotten away when I found out I could fly, which was a big deal because growing up I never had flying dreams; the most I would ever get was a good running start, a leap and sort of a glide, but I didn’t actually ever fly in a dream until my late 20’s. So there I was, over the trees, looking down, figuring I’d escaped, but then the giant flew up too. I realized my only escape was down; I’d been over country and suburbs but found myself suddenly over a city, and I dodged into the underground train system. On the platform, I was jostled and dropped my house key into a crack where I couldn’t retrieve it. A nice blond young man asked if it had been important. I told him that I was down here to get away from the giant that everyone could hear above us, and that that was my house key I dropped and I’d never be able to go home. He said with a giant following me, I’d probably never have been able to go home anyway.
Then on Sunday night I dreamed I was living in a kind of dorm and when I woke up, my walls were covered in brown butcher paper cut to fit around every framed picture and window on the wall. All over the paper was a letter from a girl I sort of know peripherally, telling me all about the time she spent out of work battling cancer. I was so intrigued by the letter that it took me a minute to wonder how she’d gotten it all up and written while I was sleeping right there, since I’m such a light sleeper. Someone else in the dorm asked her, and all she said was “I have my ways.” She seemed to have cut a very thin horizontal slit in my wall that faced the hallway, maybe half an inch high and 4-5 feet wide, and apparently she’d gotten it all done through there?
Last night I dreamed that my mother had a house by the water. It was a small lake, but it had tides and small breaking waves, just like at the ocean. In the neighbor’s yard on the hill was a tree that grew nut pods. Each pod had the skin of a kiwi, dark green and fuzzy, but was twice a kiwi’s size. Inside each pod were nuts that were kind of like a cross between almonds and sunflower seeds, and they were already roasted and salted inside the pod, so that when you picked one it opened like a little bag and you had roasted, salted tree nuts ready to eat.
What have you been dreaming lately?