Stone Poppas
Stone Poppa:
Weathering the Hurricane. I was a disembodied presence in this dream. I found myself in a two bedroom apartment. Well maintained. One woman and one large stone like being, about 18 - 24 inches in diameter, just over 6 and one half feet tall. It had carved looking areas on it that could have been some sort of features. OK, very phallic. The woman referred to it as "Stone Pappa."
Her room looked like an ordinary bedroom, book cases on the walls. She had a small radio/tv/dvd player. There was no broadcast signals, but she had several shelves of DVD's. I did notice that there were no phones or computers in the rooms at all. A hurricane was blowing outside, Stone Pappa announced. He seemed unaware of my presence, but the woman seemed to be able to sense me. She wanted to run away, use the cover of the hurricane to escape.
Outside on the open walkway between her place and the empty place across the hall, there was a large ceramic pot with a sickly looking banana plant in it. I swooped over it, the wind was blowing harder every second. The rain fell in a blast, it was warm but cooled rapidly, leaving a blowing fog like layer so thick the woman didn't see the potted plant break loose. I managed to get her attention enough to move out of the way.
Stone Pappa glided out onto the balcony as though unaffected by the wind. It provided a wind break and the woman made her way back into the apartment. It seemed to communicate something to her that I couldn't catch, and it retired to its room. The floor was covered with a thick layer of white gravel about the texture and size of aquarium gravel. All around the room was a 24 inch wooden framed tank of water that was flowing with a fairly good pace. There were some low green plants visible on the surface waving in the current, and occasionally I caught the impression of something eel-like just below the surface. Stone Poppa floated just above the gravel into the center of the room and I could hear the crunch of gravel as it rested its weight there. The woman turned out the lights, revealing that the Stone Pappa glowed slightly, as did numerous UV lamps around the rim of the tank.
She closed the door and stood facing a full-length mirror at the end of the hall. She looked at me behind her in the mirror, I could tell that she could see me. She retired to her room. Getting into bed with her clothes on because of my presence. I left the room and came back the next morning.
Train-ride
The trip to the train station was in the cold, the woman barely had on enough to keep warm. All of the other travelers are like Stone Poppa, or myself. There are about a half dozen shades like me, we greet one another, but each has a mission, I realize, and we are focused on that goal. The seats have all been altered, only the backs remain, the seat and cushions removed. The Stone Pappas were standing in rows, not really touching the seatbacks unless the train lurched or slowed, which it did frequently. No other humans got on the train. The woman stood most of the way, until the car emptied enough for her to sit on the floor. The Stone Poppa broadcast disapproval, it was echoed by the others in the car. She just gave them a pained look and closed her eyes. All during the trip she was careful not to pay direct attention to me. Just as we were pulling into the dream city terminal one of the Stone Pappas lurched out the door and was slammed into by an oncoming train on an adjacent line. The woman's eyes flew open. She looked at the mess in a near panic. Stone Pappa was upset, a subtle but noticeable change in the carved features, I made a quick sketch in my mind. Stone Pappa, despite his dis-ease, broadcast calm at the woman. I then felt him denying that it was his charge who'd killed the other passenger. I reinforced his denials, and pushed some of his nearby riders to echo it. That seemed to have the desired effect.
"Good luck said the other shades as I followed my Stone Pappa and his captive off the train.
Missing Time.
I don't know how it happened, but the woman and Stone Pappa found their way to the cave of the ancients, as myself and several others were calling it. We needed another couple of us to arrive.
Cave of Ancients
Inside a cave, feels like in the southwest US in a hidden part of some natural caverns, is a massive alien machine. Not made by the Stone Pappas. In fact, I can't think of a single bit of technology I'd seen that could be attributed to them. Human numbers had been so depleted, and in deference to their own ability to communicate by short distance Radio, they kept the remainder of us fairly separated. I could not see the rational of keeping any of us, but was glad they did. I was now in my physical body, by backpack with dice in the tupperware container bumping against my kidney as I raced up to the entrance to the cavern. The woman, and two others arrived. The Stone Pappas with them looking confused despite their immobile features. We all raised slingshots or swirled slings around our heads. Broken shards of ceramic sparkplug sleeves sang through the air. The sharp ceramic projectiles cut into the hides of the Stone Pappas, they fled in terror, silently (to us) shouting for reinforcements, which would not come, as they were out of radio range this far under iron rich ground. (One of our group had discovered the ceramic trick, as bullets of any normal sort didn't seem to have any effect on them.) The woman and her companions were also confused, but upon seeing us in person, and on seeing the alien device, I could tell that memories were flooding back. At this point I knew there were enough of us to activate the machine and send us back to 1953 (or like myself, as one of the youngest of the bunch to 1961, where I would have to grow until puberty to fully remember what had gone before.) I felt the currents of time rising around us, and set the backpack in a safe crevice in the rock, just as I had over a dozen times before. I hoped one of us would know what had triggered this strange invasion, and we would be able to stop or avoid it this time around.
The cavern in this dream was the same as the one that appears early in the latest sketchbook I'd started, just before beginning this Drog. I will have to pull it out and scan it for this story, since it was the same place.
Weathering the Hurricane. I was a disembodied presence in this dream. I found myself in a two bedroom apartment. Well maintained. One woman and one large stone like being, about 18 - 24 inches in diameter, just over 6 and one half feet tall. It had carved looking areas on it that could have been some sort of features. OK, very phallic. The woman referred to it as "Stone Pappa."
Her room looked like an ordinary bedroom, book cases on the walls. She had a small radio/tv/dvd player. There was no broadcast signals, but she had several shelves of DVD's. I did notice that there were no phones or computers in the rooms at all. A hurricane was blowing outside, Stone Pappa announced. He seemed unaware of my presence, but the woman seemed to be able to sense me. She wanted to run away, use the cover of the hurricane to escape.
Outside on the open walkway between her place and the empty place across the hall, there was a large ceramic pot with a sickly looking banana plant in it. I swooped over it, the wind was blowing harder every second. The rain fell in a blast, it was warm but cooled rapidly, leaving a blowing fog like layer so thick the woman didn't see the potted plant break loose. I managed to get her attention enough to move out of the way.
Stone Pappa glided out onto the balcony as though unaffected by the wind. It provided a wind break and the woman made her way back into the apartment. It seemed to communicate something to her that I couldn't catch, and it retired to its room. The floor was covered with a thick layer of white gravel about the texture and size of aquarium gravel. All around the room was a 24 inch wooden framed tank of water that was flowing with a fairly good pace. There were some low green plants visible on the surface waving in the current, and occasionally I caught the impression of something eel-like just below the surface. Stone Poppa floated just above the gravel into the center of the room and I could hear the crunch of gravel as it rested its weight there. The woman turned out the lights, revealing that the Stone Pappa glowed slightly, as did numerous UV lamps around the rim of the tank.
She closed the door and stood facing a full-length mirror at the end of the hall. She looked at me behind her in the mirror, I could tell that she could see me. She retired to her room. Getting into bed with her clothes on because of my presence. I left the room and came back the next morning.
Train-ride
The trip to the train station was in the cold, the woman barely had on enough to keep warm. All of the other travelers are like Stone Poppa, or myself. There are about a half dozen shades like me, we greet one another, but each has a mission, I realize, and we are focused on that goal. The seats have all been altered, only the backs remain, the seat and cushions removed. The Stone Pappas were standing in rows, not really touching the seatbacks unless the train lurched or slowed, which it did frequently. No other humans got on the train. The woman stood most of the way, until the car emptied enough for her to sit on the floor. The Stone Poppa broadcast disapproval, it was echoed by the others in the car. She just gave them a pained look and closed her eyes. All during the trip she was careful not to pay direct attention to me. Just as we were pulling into the dream city terminal one of the Stone Pappas lurched out the door and was slammed into by an oncoming train on an adjacent line. The woman's eyes flew open. She looked at the mess in a near panic. Stone Pappa was upset, a subtle but noticeable change in the carved features, I made a quick sketch in my mind. Stone Pappa, despite his dis-ease, broadcast calm at the woman. I then felt him denying that it was his charge who'd killed the other passenger. I reinforced his denials, and pushed some of his nearby riders to echo it. That seemed to have the desired effect.
"Good luck said the other shades as I followed my Stone Pappa and his captive off the train.
Missing Time.
I don't know how it happened, but the woman and Stone Pappa found their way to the cave of the ancients, as myself and several others were calling it. We needed another couple of us to arrive.
Cave of Ancients
Inside a cave, feels like in the southwest US in a hidden part of some natural caverns, is a massive alien machine. Not made by the Stone Pappas. In fact, I can't think of a single bit of technology I'd seen that could be attributed to them. Human numbers had been so depleted, and in deference to their own ability to communicate by short distance Radio, they kept the remainder of us fairly separated. I could not see the rational of keeping any of us, but was glad they did. I was now in my physical body, by backpack with dice in the tupperware container bumping against my kidney as I raced up to the entrance to the cavern. The woman, and two others arrived. The Stone Pappas with them looking confused despite their immobile features. We all raised slingshots or swirled slings around our heads. Broken shards of ceramic sparkplug sleeves sang through the air. The sharp ceramic projectiles cut into the hides of the Stone Pappas, they fled in terror, silently (to us) shouting for reinforcements, which would not come, as they were out of radio range this far under iron rich ground. (One of our group had discovered the ceramic trick, as bullets of any normal sort didn't seem to have any effect on them.) The woman and her companions were also confused, but upon seeing us in person, and on seeing the alien device, I could tell that memories were flooding back. At this point I knew there were enough of us to activate the machine and send us back to 1953 (or like myself, as one of the youngest of the bunch to 1961, where I would have to grow until puberty to fully remember what had gone before.) I felt the currents of time rising around us, and set the backpack in a safe crevice in the rock, just as I had over a dozen times before. I hoped one of us would know what had triggered this strange invasion, and we would be able to stop or avoid it this time around.
The cavern in this dream was the same as the one that appears early in the latest sketchbook I'd started, just before beginning this Drog. I will have to pull it out and scan it for this story, since it was the same place.
posted by Fermius Firefly | 6:05 PM
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