Friday, 9:25 PM
I wanted to get up at 4 AM or so and write
down the troubling dream that woke me,
but I was so tired I wanted to keep sleeping.
So, I compromised.
Rouse yourself. Do not get up. Do not try
to reenter the dream and change it. But my heart
It was a film noir scene--black and white, rain
falling, red lights flashing in the distance.
I was accused of mudering a woman. I didn't
know anything was up at all until I looked around
the dark hotel room and saw a woman sitting
in a chair in the corner. She looked toward the door
and I opened it. I remember telling her to leave.
Two female cops came up the stairs to the room
to arrest me for murder. I can see my face--the look
of confusion and disbelief. Somehow or the other,
my oldest son was there (it was in a town I can't
recall but know it was about 100 miles away).
The female cops were brusque and cruel and intimidating.
I asked my son to get me a hamburger, and after he left,
smiling, which didn't seem odd, I ran to the door and said
And a diet coke. My daughter was there too.
Scenes flashed. The female cops pulled me out into
the rain in the parking lot and told me to look.
I saw a truck with what appeared to be a large
baking pan on the top. Someone dumped two
legs into the pan. I saw the legs and the black
high heels on the feet. I felt sick and said I had
to go inside. In and out of the room, friends from
years ago were talking to me, saying it's all going
to be alright. We'll be right outside. Then a woman
came in--a criminal psychologist or something.
Before she could say anything, my mind recognized
the legs and shoes. I knew then I was being interrogated
for murdering myself.
I did wake up and didn't get back to the dream, though I
had this feeling I needed to make things right.
I had another dream. I woke from that wanting to reenter
that dream, not to make things right, just to feel what
I felt in that dream. There was a young man, and I was
a young woman, and we had spent the day visting a site
with these huge statues, made of stone, some of them
frightening, some of them interesting, some of them
rather ordinary in all ways except for their size.
One was a ship, the details of the masts and the men
quite vivid. One was a fortress, moat and flags flying
from the turrets. One was a man, on bended knee,
his face that of a god, his eyes colorless and haunting.
There is more, but I stop here.
One friend called today. Tumor in the breast.
Another call. Family. Tumor in the uterus.
It rained all morning but it's hot now.
I think I should eat.