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Aug. 2nd, 2022 09:21 amThe second dream was quite interesting, but it faded when I was woken by the Panda, who'd left me to sleep. I was good and tired last night and expected to slide right off to sleep, but the sciatica leg-twitch kicked in so I kept kicking out. It doesn't promote rest and, having a little space in the schedule, I dozed off again after making sure my Finer Half (who is REALLY not a morning person) was focused and had her morning cuppa available.
The FIRST dream though. The first dream was when I surfaced late and had to hustle to ensure that a certain cuppa arrived in the first place. This was a simple idea with complicated details: go outside at night, even leave a window open, and you're dead. Dead or taken or otherwise no longer available in the morning to make your Nearest a cuppa, anyway.
The wrinkle to this was that, if you did go outside, you would be unable to get back inside. Walking through a doorway left you... right back outside.
I'm beginning to think there was a touch of HP Lovecraft's Innsmouth about the place: a small town or village feel; humourless, staring community leaders and an atmosphere of disquiet for the newcomer or newcomers. We were in some sort of church hall. Lancet windows, the sort with a single, bottom-hinged pane for ventilation, let in grey light over a tea and cakes 'welcome' buffet. It wasn't the most convivial event, I can tell you.
A tall, very thin, bespectacled woman, hair pulled back and with a very unpleasant look in her eye, showed a couple of us into a ground-floor room off main the hall; by now we knew that being exposed to the outside at night was deadly, but we realised that the window was undone. A large, mullioned casement window, iron framed, with a catch that was out of reach as it swung away from us, left us in a too-small room completely open to the night. It was going to be cold in there, even if there weren't added difficulties of being dissolved or irradiated or Taken.
The other person in the room, I realised, looked startling like the early 1980s Dr Who companion, Tegan Jovanka. We managed to loop string around the window catch and began to pull the window in but 'Tegan' was suddenly outside the window, having somehow slipped or leant too far out. She gave me a resigned, 'what can y'do?' look, hands spread. She tried to climb back inside but was suddenly outside again – well you have to try. I realised that she had been able to be partly inside the room, so got her to insert an arm and then nonchalantly sit on the sill, hazard a foot over the edge into the room and then pivot around. We closed the window with us both inside and
THAT was the awkward moment I dropped back into reality.
Scenes Of Tension And Apparent Peril were all this internal movie contained and I WANT TO KNOW MORE! :D
The FIRST dream though. The first dream was when I surfaced late and had to hustle to ensure that a certain cuppa arrived in the first place. This was a simple idea with complicated details: go outside at night, even leave a window open, and you're dead. Dead or taken or otherwise no longer available in the morning to make your Nearest a cuppa, anyway.
The wrinkle to this was that, if you did go outside, you would be unable to get back inside. Walking through a doorway left you... right back outside.
I'm beginning to think there was a touch of HP Lovecraft's Innsmouth about the place: a small town or village feel; humourless, staring community leaders and an atmosphere of disquiet for the newcomer or newcomers. We were in some sort of church hall. Lancet windows, the sort with a single, bottom-hinged pane for ventilation, let in grey light over a tea and cakes 'welcome' buffet. It wasn't the most convivial event, I can tell you.
A tall, very thin, bespectacled woman, hair pulled back and with a very unpleasant look in her eye, showed a couple of us into a ground-floor room off main the hall; by now we knew that being exposed to the outside at night was deadly, but we realised that the window was undone. A large, mullioned casement window, iron framed, with a catch that was out of reach as it swung away from us, left us in a too-small room completely open to the night. It was going to be cold in there, even if there weren't added difficulties of being dissolved or irradiated or Taken.
The other person in the room, I realised, looked startling like the early 1980s Dr Who companion, Tegan Jovanka. We managed to loop string around the window catch and began to pull the window in but 'Tegan' was suddenly outside the window, having somehow slipped or leant too far out. She gave me a resigned, 'what can y'do?' look, hands spread. She tried to climb back inside but was suddenly outside again – well you have to try. I realised that she had been able to be partly inside the room, so got her to insert an arm and then nonchalantly sit on the sill, hazard a foot over the edge into the room and then pivot around. We closed the window with us both inside and
THAT was the awkward moment I dropped back into reality.
Scenes Of Tension And Apparent Peril were all this internal movie contained and I WANT TO KNOW MORE! :D
