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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.

Friday, May 29, 2015

Moving by Train

I was emptying out a ruined warehouse, years of boxes that had been stored were now threatened by the elements. An earthquake or or other event had ruptured the spine of the warehouse and one wall as well as a part of the ceiling had given way. I was loading a railroad flat car with the boxes, as they were only going to be moved about five hundred yards down the spur line to another warehouse. The engineer kept urging me to stack the boxes higher. I wanted to make two trips, partly so I could take a break before having to unload the boxes at the destination and again before loading up again. The Engineer said he only had time for one trip, but would leave the flatcar on the siding at the destination if I needed more time to unload.

So I loaded the car taller than I would have liked. I tried to keep the lighter boxes aside so they could be placed on top, but the engineer started getting frustrated that the car was not being loaded as fast as he wanted, so started just picking up the boxes and tossing them onto the car wherever they fit. I tried to explain that the heavier boxes were more stable if they were on the bottom, but he didn't have the patience for it.

The heavier boxes were filled with records and binders of manuals for long forgotten processes and programs. Since the boxed items were sometimes seven or eight boxes down and two or three layers back, I couldn't imagine that their contents were of any import. The boxes had obviously not been accessed in years, and in some of them, I could see that animals had tunneled into them and used them for nests, presumably until they'd been buried too deep for even the animals to find them convenient to use. The lighter boxes contained everything from foam desk toys to collections of mugs and bottles. I found myself wondering what would cause an employee to leave so abruptly that they wouldn't come back for their desk items, or what would cause the company to box that stuff up and file.

It was getting pretty late in the afternoon when it became very apparent that we would need to make a second trip anyway, but the engineer came up with a different solution. Stack the extra boxes around the catwalk and in the cab of the engine with him. So I boxed him into the cab, leaving no room for me to ride.

"It's only a few hundred yards, just walk along side."

I really needed a break, but agreed.

The engine was located just behind the flatcar, and as I walked past the flatcar on my way down the siding to the new warehouse, the engine bumped the car, causing the boxes behind me to groan, rattle and shift. I looked back and noticed the car approaching the curve, as it entered the curve, the tower of boxes shifted and I could tell they were going to topple. I moved up the gravel roadbed, trying to get close to the flatcar, or even under it, as the boxes fell over me like a wave. I managed to only be struck by a few boxes, fortunately those falling from lower levels. Still, there were a couple of hundred pounds of papers and crates of empty Coke bottles on top of me. I managed to uncover my head before the train groaned to a stop.

I woke up in the hospital with my right arm in a cast up to my shoulder and around my back. The pain was incredible. I couldn't even move to try to make myself comfortable as the arm was in traction. All the IVs were in my left arm and hand, but the staff hadn't bothered to move the stand to the left side of the bed, so all the lines were lying across my body in a tangle. The call button was on the right hand side, too. I was worried about the contents of the warehouse and wanted to make sure the wreckage had been taken care of. I hoped the insurance would cover the broken collectables. I wondered how long it was before help arrived to rescue the engineer, since he'd allowed himself to be completely boxed in so he could make it all in one trip. I remember wishing we'd had web straps to tie the load down, as all this could have been prevented.

Even a few hours later I'm still feeling the pain in my neck, shoulder and back. I must have fallen asleep in an odd position.

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Wednesday, May 27, 2015


I dreamed R and I were stranded on an island, the boat we were on wrecked on a reef, and we were tossed out and managed to swim ashore. The tide came in and the boat limped away, saying they would let the coast guard know where we were.

We built a small fire and took a tour of our little mountainous island. There was a large lagoon on the other side, and the remains of a few huts. We found a small graveyard out on one arm of the lagoon. The markers were no longer readable and had fallen apart. After a couple of days, I went and repaired the markers with new twine made from palm fibres.

In looking over the huts I realized that this was Gilligan's Island. R thought that was funny, and unlikely. Since the island was a set, I thought so too. But the number of graves (six) and the arrangement of the huts made it seem likely.

We took turns keeping watch on the top of the low hill, keeping our fire going. A boat finally came for us, and sailed into the small lagoon to pick us up. When we got back to the main island we had a neat surprise.

The island was for sale.

We decided to pool our resources and buy it. We named it after R's mom. We brought his kids, his sister and her children back to the island. His daughter was in training for some competition, so we (well, she and R) were running along the beaches around the island. I was taking the inside curve of the beach while they ran in the shallow water. There was a spot on the back side of the island where there was no sand, so we had to swim. The waves were growing larger and larger, though, making swimming dangerous, as we might be dashed against the reef after being pulled out by the undertow.

I recognized that this was merely the influence of my filling bladder and stretched out, falling back to sleep. The dream continued! We managed to swim back around to a part of the island with a beach, lots of new sand having been deposited by the storm surge. When we got out M had a large bruise on her thigh, but felt that it would be healed enough for her to compete when she flew home in a few days.

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Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Missing Little John

I dreamed I was cuddling with Little John on the counter next to the toaster, he asked to be picked up and held. All the while I was carrying him around, putting down fresh water, offering him snacks, and finally watching him curl up on the pillow to go to sleep he kept getting smaller and lighter.

Throughout the entire dream I knew he was dead and this was just a dream, but I couldn't wake myself until he was asleep. (Weirdly, I didn't want him to be left in the dream alone, I know that doesn't make any sense.)


Wednesday, May 20, 2015


Last nights's dreams all had a similar theme. I was pedaling my butt off all night long. In the first dream I was at the beach. No exactly on a bicycle, and not exactly on a unicycle. The device had two wheels, but they were side by side, unless I opened up the device, and then on was to the front of the other, sort of. The frame of the thing was about twelve feet long, it wobbled like a teeter totter, and I had to continually lean it so that folks could duck under it or step over it.

In a later dream I was riding up the street and then around a corner, where I found myself at the end of a parade, since I was on a real unicycle this time, the crowd just thought I was part of the parade, the police went along and let me through their moving barricade, which allowed me to catch up to the actual parade. I managed to pedal up next to the mayor's car and then when I had the chance I ducked down a side street to finish my trip to the store.

In my final dream this morning, I was pumping water from the bottom of the house up to the roof where it was going into a storage tank that flowed back down through a series of water wheel powered turbines. It only generated a few watts, but it was enough to light up the house at night and recharge the cell phones. Everyone was supposed to take turns running the generator, or pumping water up into the tower. In practice, however, I seemed to be the only one who hopped on to the exercise bike and actually did any pumping. I thought it was particularly unfair, as I had also built, and maintained the windmill that powered the pumps/generators most of the time. One of my neighbors asked why anyone would bother pumping the water up there. I told him that sometimes people might want light and a shower when the wind wasn't blowing.

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Sunday, May 17, 2015

Demo House and Waking Cheer

I dreamed that I was living in a house at the end of a road that switched back and went up the hill, wove around some trees an ended behind my lot.

The lot above was being used as a demonstration lot for various kit or mobile homes. At the start of the dream there was a bamboo house, all open and covered with canvas. By the time the dream was at its end, the house had been replaced with a house made of 3d printed Nylon parts PVC tubes of various sizes and mesh screens. It was also a two story home,

I rather liked my current home on the lot, it was three bedrooms upstairs, the master suite and bathrooms in the back and the two guestrooms to the front (both with balconies overlooking the front of the house. The second floor was shifted back so the master suite opened up onto the hill on the back of the property.

The bottom floor was a garage and den in the front, stairs, bathroom, and kitchen in the middle, and dining room and living room in the back. The den wasn't really a separate room from the dining room and living room, so was part of a giant "L" shaped entertainment area.

As I woke to the phone alarm, I heard a chant:

One bit,
Two bits,
Four bits,
A dollar,
Everyone for Shakespeare, stand up and holler!

The phone alarm just chimes....

Tuesday, May 05, 2015

Strangled, Reclaimed House

Had a dream that started off serene enough. I was parked in a parking structure downtown, just checking my phone for the e-ticket to whatever event I was about to attend. And moving the porta-potty to the back seat. I heard a noise outside the car and turned just as someone reached into the car and wrapped a belt around my neck. I managed to get a couple of fingers under it before they pulled it tight, but I knew it wasn't going to be enough if I didn't act fast. I turned so the main pressure wasn't on my esophagus and kicked away from the door - it tightened the belt, but also forced the person into the side of the car. The dream ended before I could tell if that helped or not.

This morning's dream was muck nicer. I was in a hilly area outside of the Dream City, just down the hill from Cemetary House, where there were several old abandoned buildings. I had purchased them and was in the process of renovating them. I'd finished the master bedroom and a ball room and the kitchen. In the process I'd hired the displaced people to do the work, and they had renovated small homes for themselves. There was a child who no one claimed, however, so I made sure that there were a couple of rooms that could be used as bedrooms and let the child have first pick.


Later in the night I was inspecting the roof and retaining wall behind the master bedroom, it was built into a hillside with a small private patio on the roof and to each side. It was starting to rain so I had gone up to the top patio to close the umbrella and take it in. I found another child sleeping in a damp pile of bedding stuffed under the picnic table. I convinced the child to come inside, and introduced him to my new staff.

No one knew who his or her parents were, either. I took the child to the front of the house where the guest rooms were. There were two sparten but clean rooms with a common bathroom between them. I told him he could stay in the room the other child hadn't chosen. I went to introduce them, hoping they knew one another, but she wasn't in her room. One of my new employees said the child became frightened of the storm and went to the master bedroom to sleep by the fireplace. She wasn't sure she liked that. I told her the children were allowed to go wherever they felt safe, it would be okay. She was welcome to come up and check on her to make sure she was all right. The new child asked to sleep by the fire, too. The house itself was cold, as I only had heat from one fireplace and the other furnaces weren't working yet. We hadn't even cleared the rubble out of the stairs down into the basement.

I took the pillows and blanket off the guests (or childrens') beds, taking a moment to show the child how the hammock linen storage worked. (A bright blue hammock above the bed with extra blankets and pillows in it. The child asked if he could sleep in it.


The child brought the hammock down and then took the pillows I'd taken off the mattress below and tossed them into the hammock. The little dark haired child's face poked out of a pile of linens and pillows, smiling for the first time of the evening. "I can really stay here?"


The child grabbed the rope and pulled the hammock up above the bed, looking down at us contentedly.

I asked the tall blonde women to bring some snacks for the kids. "I guess we'll be camping by the fire tonight." We went back through the large dining hall, I explained that I was going to recondition all the rooms so they looked like this.

"Empty, you mean" I looked around, there was a single round card sized table with a jade top and a small lamp, at the table was a single embroidered cushioned chair.

I laughed, "no, clean, with nice walls and floors, there'll be plenty of furniture in time. We haven't even decided what to do with all of this space yet."

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Monday, May 04, 2015

Rockin' in the Free World

This morning's audio offering was a rousing rendition of 'Rockin' in the Free World,' sung by a female voice a cappella in the cat's room. (No one I recognized.) The verses, however, weren't the Neil Young verses, I wish I could remember them.

When I could finally move (these events are usually accompanied by a short period of paralysis) there were no concerned kitties on the bed, so I didn't bother to go and check on the "source" of the sound this time. Some mornings the voice is just so real that I have to go outside and see if a neighbor is out and about or if I can hear audio playing somewhere. I suppose it could still have been a car going by in front of the house.

The experience was one of those that was so real that it completely obliterated the other snatches of dream that were still fresh in my mind.