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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.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Green, Poltergeist Romance

       I dreamed that I was visiting S and C and C was wearing a Kelly green turtleneck sweater very much like the ones N and I used to have. I found myself wishing that N could visit with me.

       I dreamed I was in a wedding dress shop, helping fix their POS systems when the shop was getting ready to close. A young woman came in, I recognized her, probably a former student. There was some issue with her dress, it wasn't ready, they still needed several items to complete it. (This part was definitely inspired by World of Warcraft's crafting rules.) She seemed relieved rather than disturbed that the dress wouldn't be ready.
       The YW visited with me as I finished making the computer systems talk to each other. I was re-configuring the network. Apparently the sales terminals had lost their IP addresses by connecting to a neighboring store's wireless network. I set them to only use the dress shop's wireless and set them all to static IP addresses. As we talked I realized that she wasn't really ready to get married at all.
       The Folks in the dress shop were beginning to act strange, talking about opening the portal and needing more icing. They were all leaking icing or wax from under their jaw lines. One of the larger women went past me into their small kitchen (where the wireless router was located) and opened up their freezer to pull out a gallon tub of white icing. The tailors began to gather around and eat the icing right out of the tub.
       There was the sub-element of some sort of ritual going on with the eating. I finished my job and invited the YW to stop for dinner with me, as I was planning on eating from a restaurant in this same little mall. She agreed.
       I was preparing for work when the YW showed up on my doorstep. She had a digital photo of something she found painted in makeup on her bedroom mirror. It was an image of us intertwined on her bed. Around the “painting” were several rather derogatory comments about the YW. Interesting, as my memories of the night were that I had left her at the restaurant and we had gone our separate ways.
       YW explained that her apartment was haunted with a ghost, “Can you do something about this?” she asked as if it were my fault.
       “What do you want me to do? I can banish it.Or you can tell your fiancée that you have a mischievous ghost and that I wasn't even at your apartment..”
       “I want it out of my apartment. He won't believe me, he'll kill me.”
       I agreed to help banish the ghost, but I told her I was disturbed that her fiancée made her so afraid.
       When we got there, there were more “paintings” around the place, including one of us hugging and kissing right on her front window. Inside the place every single glass surface had makeup or soap if vertical and salt and pepper and brown sugar if horizontal. I had my camera and started taking pictures of them. They were all quite artistically generated.
       “What are you doing?” YW asked in a panic.
       “These are amazing, you have a lot of talent.”
       “I didn't do these. I told you this place is haunted.”
       “I'm sorry, but I don't get the feeling that there is anyone else here.”
       The original “painting” in YW's bedroom had been wiped out, but as we entered the makeup and soap flew away from the mirror into the bed. YW jumped onto the bed after them. “No!”
       The part of the new work on the mirror was a bust of the YW and I inside a heart, the word “Please?” repeated about a dozen times all around it.
       I looked back at the bed. YW was on her knees, facing me, trying to hold the makeup brush and the soap in one hand and her skirt down with the other. “Oh, no. Help me!” Her hair looked as though the wind were blowing it all about her face and up into the air behind her.
       I looked back at the mirror. I reached out where she could see me touch the largest “Please?” on the glass and, waiting until I was sure she was looking at me in the mirror said “Yes.”
       Her squawking stopped. The wind stopped, her skirt fell down around her knees. She rapidly bent over to pull it up and tumbled toward me. I caught her before she dove headfirst off the end of the bed.
       “What did you do to make it go away?”
       “I answered your question.”
       “Its question.”
       I could hear activity beginning again. I mentally gathered strength and flung the presence outside the bedroom window. I was going to crush it out of existence until YW raced to the window after it, so concerned that she allowed her skirt to fall to the floor as she leaned out over her dresser after it. YW was wearing under skirt shorts, the black Lycra sort.
       “I was right the first time, it's your question, it is part of you.”
       I pulled the ghost back to YW and let it go. She scrambled to pull her skirt up off the floor.
       “Yes. This is probably a bad idea,” I said, “but, yes.”
       “You must think I'm a...”
       “No, four years and then yesterday, plenty of time for first impressions.” I said, “You're adorable, always thought so.” After seeing her lovely shape I really thought so.
       She finished buttoning up and took a step towards me. The bed spread snaked out and tripped her, causing her to fly into my arms. I pulled her up to me, kissing her on the forehead.
       “But, I'm engaged!”
       “Yes, you'll have to figure out what you want to do about that. If this event, I indicated the images around the place, is any indication, you're looking for an excuse to get out of it. I'll be your excuse, with no other expectations.” I looked down into her coppery brown eyes, and noticed that she hadn't let go. She was barely balanced and still holding on with both arms. I suspected that whether she told her boyfriend, or her boyfriend saw this place, it was going to be over between them. I just hoped he wasn't the violent type, though I suspected her poltergeist would be able to afford some protection.

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