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Fermius Firefly

A Dream Log, whenever I remember the dreams I've had.

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Location: San Marcos, United States

Fermius is a pen name drawn from a series of short fiction I wrote when I published the small press magazine Stellanova (on paper.) I play RPG games to escape from my daily grind as a technology wage slave for the state of California. I eat out a lot in order to do my part in supporting our increasingly service level economy. I am butler to 2 feline masters. If you ask them they will tell you I'm not very good at it, late with dinner, don't have enough hands with brushes in them, and sometimes I even lock them out of their office.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

River Trip, Reenactment, Memories

I dreamed that N and I were traveling along a river in a ruined post apocalyptic looking landscape. We came across a village nestled in the arms of full fruited orchards and well stored shipping containers full of merchandise that never made it to its original destination. They were threadbare and starving, none the less. I discovered, after a short while, that there was some sort of warlord in the region who demanded that they only take food that had fallen on the ground, and items that fell out of the containers to the ground as well. To do otherwise was to face certain death.
I also discovered that the group had not seen this “benefactor” in a very long time. I managed to knock over a rack full of long coats and jeans. N managed to dislodge several apples on each tree that she climbed. The townspeople were glad to have scapegoats in us and rushed in to take clothing and food. Their benefactors never showed up. I showed a bunch of them how to determine if the food they found in any sealed containers was good or not. (Look for the bulge, listen for the vacuum filling in.)
We tried to warn them that winter was coming and they needed to prepare both food and shelter if they were going to survive. In many ways it was if people just didn't remember about there being seasons. We took some of the fruit and dried it before packing up and heading out.

In another dream I was talking with a person who had a 1950's era warplane, and tried to get him hooked up with some 1950's costumers so they could come and fix up his hanger as a sort of living museum.

In yet a third dream I was digging through a bunch of old stuff at my parent's house, trying to find some old models that, as the dream wore on, I realized didn't really exist. There were plenty of interesting things, including about a dozen shirts my mother had cut out all of the pieces of, but had never sewed together, an old balsa airplane model, just needing to be skinned, a collection of wool jackets my father had amassed and I think every package of homework or drawings any of the three of us had ever brought home and put on the refrigerator door.

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