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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.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Photo Shoot: Nude Olympics, Attack on a Mountain Road

             I dreamed I was shooting athletes for a calendar project. We were in the Italian Alps, or at the base of them, rather. I was shooting some oiled up beauties on the grounds of an old vineyard. There were lots of poses on split rail fences and against old rusted equipment. At the end of the shooting day I transferred, via laptop wireless, the best of my photographs. The athletes went home, except for one one slender woman, who wanted to have racier photos for her own portfolio.
             We wanted to try something exotic by shooting with lots of dramatic side lighting, and different colors against the red rusted farm equipment and the dark night sky. It took me several minutes to set up lighting for the different locations. She went into town for dinner while I was setting lights and reflectors. She came back with a friend, a much rounder, bustier woman, who I thought would actually be a much more visually romantic subject.
             We worked for a couple of hours after dinner, and I was finally able to talk the friend into posing for some photographs. I had some soft robes and some aprons as well as a couple of floral pinafores in my trunk, some one size fits all frilly clothing. I managed to get some make-up on the friend and we were able to talk her into posing nude, as well. I could not convince them to pose nude together, but was able to get some lovely shots of them in aprons and pinafores as well as in their striped blouses and shorts.
             The women went back to town while I broke down my gear and stowed it in my rented Ram.
             The next morning I had a large number of Italian Adult film stars at the same site. They were in track and field outfits for a sort of Summer Olympics tribute that rapidly turned into a nude Olympics and then the Olympic Orgy afterwards. The producer of the work was shooting video and there was also a film photographer on the scene as well as her two assistants, who I thought were better looking than most of the adult stars. The producer saw some of my photos from the evening previous, and wanted to purchase them. He offered me a large amount of money, which I had to decline, explaining that these shots were works for hire. The other photographer and her assistants asked me to stay another night and to help them set up and shoot in the evening. The four of us went to work, and the two assistants proved to be enthusiastic and willing models. Eventually we managed to get the three women in the compositions, with me operating three cameras. We reviewed my digital images and I burned DVD copies for the three women. After we had packed everything up, the photographer invited me back to their hotel, where she and I spent the night in one bed and the assistants/models in the other. The two slender assistants were very noisy, but we weren't really sleeping that much, either.

             Later, after N went to work, I fell asleep again. This time I was walking along a cobblestone road with a cliff on one edge. The road hadn't been designed for vehicle traffic, so there were many pedestrians and a few brave cyclists. The road was flanked on the other side by stone buildings whose porches sat right on the cobblestone road. There were a couple of fruit stands, and a cart with knitted goods hanging from it. There were narrow side streets that wound their way up into the hillside along very narrow alleys faced with similar stone buildings. Given the twists and turns of the roads, I had no doubt that there were spots which hadn't seen the sun in hundreds of years. A large half-tracked vehicle lumbered by, forcing us pedestrians to press ourselves against the buildings, or in my case, to jump up on the top of the retaining wall alongside the road. The other side of the wall was forty to sixty feet high, and nearly sheer.
             As the half-track passed the last of the buildings, an old chapel next to the graveyard, which was terraced into the mountainside, a large machine gun swung out of the back and began firing at random people along the road. People shouted and headed for the alleyways where the vehicle couldn't follow. I decided it was too far to make a break for it, and ducked down below the wall. Fortunately the stones were the shallow flat type of stone, and there was no mortar, so there were plenty of hand and foot holds. I could hear the half-track shift into reverse the the machine gunner continued to fire. I saw a cyclist fall over the retaining wall a hundred yards up the hill from me. The wall was undercut there, so he had nothing to grab on to and fell into the ravine below. I started for the overhang, which turned out to be a good idea. The half-track backed further down the road, I could see the jet black machine gun swivel over the top of the waist high wall. The gunner was a black silhouette against the bright blue sky. The gun was able to be aimed back along the side of the lumbering tracked vehicle, but the curve of the road, and the under cut favored me. I was able to hang in the shadow, fist and feet jammed into crevasses to hold me up. I pulled my body up into the shadow, and hoped the sunlight on the beige stones would be too bright for the gunner to make me out.
             The gunner squeezed off a few bursts along the wall, not really aiming for anything. I was pelted with rock chips, but the bullets all were far below me. I waited for the vehicle to be gone, and then tried to climb up over the overhang. The stones of the actual railing like wall were much smaller and smoother, so I had no purchase. I am also much heavier than I used to be, and without a foothold, I didn't have enough upper body strength to pull myself over the lip of the overhang. I hung there for a bit, exhausted. I didn't know if I had enough strength to climb down and back to where I'd first gone over the wall. I started calling form help, hoping someone would have a rope or some luggage straps or something I could use to pull myself up and over the edge.

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