Five Hundred Miles

According to the song in my head, that's how far I'd walk, then I'd walk five hundred more...
I wonder what part of my brain turns the volume up on the mix tape so loud that it wakes me up from what is (was) a lovely little dream of slipping across dimensions through doors that only I can see in closets and basements that don't seem to exist for anyone else.

Stormy Moving Day

I dreamed I was moving into a new home on a low hillside overlooking the ocean. The unpacking was a little chaotic as J and her family were there helping, as well as L and a couple of other folks including my brother and his wife. We were unpacking one of my parent's dressers when we discovered that it didn't sit very even. I opened up the top and we discovered an entire sewing machine cabinet, disassembled, stored under the top shelf. It was something my brother had inherited, but we'd not found it at the time.

Of course we took a break to assemble it and my brother decided that he wanted it. We had to disassemble it so we could ship it to Virginia. J was in a little bit of a mood as the kids were wildly running around discovering all the neat features of the house. Her son, however, thought it was because this was our fourth anniversary. I tried to point out to him that we hadn't been dating in almost two years, so that seemed unlikely (and it was the Sunday, not Friday before Thanksgiving, so there were still a few days left even if that were the problem.) All the while we were working, the light kept growing dimmer until I looked out over the bay and saw huge cloud wall, churning gray and green and full of lightning. A waterspout headed right for our little beach. I yelled at the people outside to hurry and get into the house. When they asked why I pointed out to the waterspout, and that got them moving. Several strangers also ran towards the house, then looked confused about what to do then, as they were sort of trapped against our sea wall. My brother and I helped them up over the wall and shooed them into the house. I was being pelted with water and small fishes as I ran into the house and pulled the french doors shut behind me.

"There's a box of towels in the back bathroom, bring them all."

The group of people from the beach were all trying not to drip on the carpet, so were all huddled in the six by nine tile space right in front of the doors. This room had indoor/outdoor carpet, though, and was meant to be more of an enclosed patio than a regular room, so I told them to spread out, "the carpet washes out." I remembered that it had plenty of sand in it when I bought the place, so wasn't worried about it.

The water spout lifted and vanished as it made its way overhead. The house was well built (very dome like) and it didn't even shudder, though lightning was flashing and you could hear the thunder so loud some of the people were holding their hands over their ears. The kids were helping me pick up the little wriggling fish and put them in a small bucket. I opened the door and ran out to the edge of the sea wall, a wave reached up to just a few inches below the wall, so I was able to scoop up a half bucket, it would be enough to save at least some of the fish. At least there weren't any more falling from the sky, just normal rain at that point. J's grandkids joined the beach kids in catching the fish and putting them in the bucket.

Surprise House Party

While I was sleeping, the house decided to throw a party. I woke up to thumping music out in the back yard, the sounds of running and giggling, a door chime, and the smell of BBQ wafting into my office. I had been working about thirty six hours straight, then had fallen asleep in my task chair. Except for bathroom trips and to get food, I hadn't been out of the office for several days. I had some sort of deadline I was racing to make, and had lost one of my illustrators, so was trying frantically to color correct everything for printing. the job was done, and I had fallen into a coma like sleep for a period of time I wasn't sure of, all my muscles hurt. I really needed to swim, but didn't have a suit that fit. I made my way through the surging crowd of party goers, only a few of whom I recognized. It didn't take long for me to decide that the party atmosphere had lasted long enough for me, it didn't help that I was dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms missing the fly button and an old holey T-shirt, neither of which had been changed for at least four days. I went back to my office, but the house had locked the door. When I tried to override the lockout the house said "You need to socialize," and that I would not be allowed to hide in my office until after I did so.

I made my way to the master bedroom, which was also full of party goers, who had overflowed even into the master bathroom. I reached in and grabbed a towel. I shrugged. "Okay, house, if that's the way you want it."

"What are you thinking?"

"I feel like swimming."

"Okay, shall I turn up the pool heat for our guests, the hot tub is already hot."

"That won't be necessary." I like my pool a little bit cooler, and the last thing I wanted to do was warm it up and make it more inviting.

I noticed that there were already a half dozen folks in the hot tub, and only a couple in the pool. They looked like they had gotten too warm and had jumped in to cool off before returning to the hot tub. I waited for them to climb over the wall into the hot tub so I would have the pool all to myself. I dropped my towel and pajama bottoms over a shaded (and thus empty) pool chair, then strode naked to the deep end of the pool. A couple of people came up to me to ask me to put something on, I didn't recognize them, so just pointed to the "Swimsuits or Nothing" sign, and said, "It's my home, my rules." One of them hurried off to go gather his children and leave. I smiled, waved at my friends in the hot tub and dove into the pool.

The house whispered to me through the pool speakers, "that wasn't nice."

I stayed under the water, kicking off the walls and gliding through the cool waters, enjoying the relief the cold water provided from my hand and foot inflammation. When I'd been down for a couple of minutes, several of the women in the hot tub had entered the pool to see if I needed help. I swam over to them and they dove down to greet me, saw my "condition" and turned and broke for the surface. I surfaced between them and mounted the stairs to make my way to the hot tub. A small pink and yellow swimsuit top plopped into the water next to me. My young friend M was below me on the stairs stepping out of her bikini bottoms. Only a couple of people stayed in the hot tub with us. I decided I liked the party after all.

Convoluted

The explanation started, "I was replacing the water-stained kitchen sink, just because I can't stand to look at it any more...." My anger was not so much that it was MY kitchen sink they were tearing out, without my permission, but that the person had not even come close to removing all the bits and pieces of the destroyed garbage disposal, or the water logged stuff that was stored under the sink. They hadn't even thought to turn off the water main when they discovered that the old shut off valves weren't fully shutting off.

I went out to shut off the water and when I stepped into the garage, I was suddenly not in my house any more. Now I was just furious, because I know that my improvised plumber wouldn't think to see why the water didn't shut off, and might go off to buy a new sink, though they seemed to expect me to do that, so probably not even that much. I looked around and stepped out into the alleyway between the house I just stepped out of and the neighbor's garage. I could touch both buildings with my outstretched arms. I decided to go back in, just to see if I would be back in my own house. Nope, the door was locked behind me. I pulled out my phone to see if I could figure out where I was. It wasn't in English. I could make out some of the words, as they had Latin roots, but wasn't sure what language my phone was in. I went into the settings, English wasn't even a choice. I didn't have a network connection, but that didn't come close to explaining why the phone was unreadable.

In the street, all the vehicles were three wheeled coupes that whined by with a light electric buzz. The people were speaking English, but only some of the signs looked like English to me. I was so obviously confused that I ended up being gently delivered to a local hospital. I'd apparently had a stroke that affected my memory and my reading, but not my speech and hearing. It also seemed to have affected the universe I inhabited. That's when it got strange. The doctor completely agreed with me. It seems my whole body MRI showed that I had a lot of organs in me that they just flat out didn't know what they were. I looked at them and told him the names of everything I recognized (Which was more than I thought.) He showed me what "normal" people had inside, and I was pretty sure they were some sort of androids, as most humans I know don't have nuclear power banks.

Then there was finding my home on this world's equivalent of Google Earth, and taking me there, and the place was abandoned, but the driveway looked well kept, and the hedge and Junipers were not completely unruly. There was a grassy meadow, like I'd always wanted, in place of the front yard. The inside, however was a shambles. Critters had gotten in through the pet door and everything was just piles of shredded dirt covered ruin. "Well, it looks like you have lots to do, so we'll just leave you here." And they did. The whole neighborhood looked pretty much like it normally does, except, no cars on the streets, no sound of people, just the occasional whirring noise which I couldn't locate. I managed to find my rake (The handle too dried up, it had shrunken out of the socket and the head separated the first time I tried to rake a pile of old books towards the door. The shovel was in much better condition, but I had no idea where I was going to shovel all the stuff, so settled for just getting it out of the house into the garbage cans. I didn't even know if there was still garbage service. The drapes in the living room crumbled to dust when I went to open them, I had to scrape grime off the window to see outside. My backyard looked like a combination of MC Escher and James Hubbell, but with obviously alien light sources in the sculpture. (I absolutely can't tell how I knew the lights were alien, I just did.)

There were also cats, but not my cats, though they didn't seem to mind. I started to wonder what I was going to eat, or if there was anything even to drink. I did find some of my cups had survived, though filthy, and oddly, the granite sink, laying on top of the ruins of the counters where the particle board had turned to mush. There was a thin stream of water running out from beneath it, through and under the debris, and then out through the garage along the west edge where it had cut a small channel, then pooled behind the stacks of ceramic tile and left over pavers, where it overflowed a low spot before being absorbed by the rather lush side yard. The fence was long rotted away, but the steel fence pole was still there, rusted and tilted. From the front you couldn't see the flowing brick and glass structure with its alien lights.

This was one of those dreams that had so many tiny details that I can't even begin to describe how rich the atmosphere was with the dank decayed smell of the house and how it mixed with the freshly chlorinated city water. The eerie silence and the low electric buzzing. (Like my electric clock, I'm guessing.) and even the cats and birds were almost silent. The reddish brown sunlight of the town I appeared in versus the fresh light of my own neighborhood, apparently abandoned, but somehow still maintained. (Much of the plantings were wildly overgrown, but all of the hedges were trimmed even with the walkways and driveways, and there was no debris in the street. Even my garage door was perfectly intact looking from the front.

Empty and Clean, Full and ...

In the first dream I remember the bedroom tear down had reached the stage of having everything out of the master bedroom. Only the dirty carpet remained, and soon enough, the carpet cleaners had it shining (well, figuratively.) I liked the roominess of it so much I didn't want to even put my mattress back in the room. I was thinking how pleasant and serene the open space was, and wondered if there was a good way to do that with the rest of the house.

In the second dream, I was in a house full of very soft, plushy people and furniture of every sort. The furniture was mostly large (six foot or more) rectangular and round lounges, all of which were large enough to be used as beds. Soon I found out why. It was (unknown to me, but not my date, apparently) a swinger's party. To say the people were plushy might have been an understatement; my date and myself were the thinnest people there. (I'm over two hundred pounds, and my date wasn't much lighter.) I didn't know something could be erotic and terrifying at the same time.

Then I was awakened by my cats, who wanted to tell me to get to cover because the landscaper was being attacked by the neighbor's dog. Said bulldog (not the brightest bulb in the string) lost to the leaf blower and ran off down the street. Then the other neighbors little terrier got out, then a bird decided to move in under my car in the garage while I had the door open. It has been a weird animal day. The cats are still hiding in the linen cabinet.

Four More to Go.

My dreams took their usual meandering path until early this morning. J and I found ourselves owners of a lovely ranch style house nestled into a hillside, lots of wood floors and paneled rooms. One of the paneled rooms was next to a space, that by looking at the rooms around it, should have had a room.

I started knocking on the wooden paneling until I discovered a hollow sounding area. We carefully removed the panel there, and discovered a doorway that had been covered up. The room was full of dusty office furniture, but sunlight was streaming into the room from a very dusty window. We both thought that was odd, as this room would be backed right up against the hillside, and it was early in the morning.

I looked around the walls and found a plastic covered wall plate with a smooth cover about a half inch in from the edges of the plate itself. I noticed there was a little thumbnail shaped divot in the cover, like someone had used a tool to pry the cover up previously. I started to use it to pull the cover off but then realized the cover was very flexible, so pressed gently in the center where it was bulged out a bit. The bulge inverted and the cover popped off into my hand.

Behind the cover was a set of unlabled controls. A row of white buttons on top, then a cross of buttons NSEW and center arrangement, then a couple of rows of buttons on the bottom. In each row the right most button was slightly larger than the others, and the center button of the cross was larger as well.

I pulled things away from the wall, looking to see what this might control. I found another larger panel, a couple of feet square, and behind it were several bundles of cables, some I wasn't familiar with, and some were Cat-6 ethernet cables. there were a couple of small hubs for the Ethernet cables, and there were faded labels on the wires. The alien looking cables also connected to what I guessed was a hub, but it was round and the cables plugged in from all directions. A much larger cable connected to one end of the alien hub and vanished into a conduit in the wall.

J was more interested in cleaning up the window to see what was outside, as she was convinced that this was like the other house where the hole in the floor went to another house in another part of the world.

When I woke up, (yes a dream within a dream) I was disappointed that the house wasn't real. I was telling the dream to J and some others at lunch, with J chiming in if I left out a detail. We were outside where other folks were passing by, when one of those folks stopped to listen. When I finished the dream he looked at me, and there passed a sort of odd feeling of familiarity. He smiled "Four more to go."

A woman who'd just come out of the cafe also smiled at me, "you know?"

"They just had the first,"

"Oh, four more to go." She took the gentleman's hand. "Welcome to the family."

I looked around, and several other people in their group waved at us.

J said she thought they were a little strange, but no stranger than the two of us having the same dream.

House Hunting

J and I were looking at a house for sale. Initially she was not very keen on it; the previous owner had died at home. The house was technically two stories, but with a pair of small finished rooms in the attic (Pepto pink and mint green dormers, for J) it was essentially three floors, even though there was only a narrow folding ladder up to the two smaller rooms.

The flooring in each room was different from the next, and the transitions, in some cases, were rather jarring. Each bedroom was done in different colors and flooring, the halls were each different from the others and both great rooms, one upstairs and one down, were like night and day. The house was big, however, and the yard was low maintenance. There was a pool, but it was laid out like a series of interconnected ponds.

In one of the upstairs rooms, there was a circle set in the floor with a thirty inch opening down through it. It was odd, though, the room below was obviously in sunlight, but we were in the house at night. I stepped out of the room and down the stairs. The room below was paneled in dark wood, with a chocolate carpet. The room we could see through the hole was blonde oak flooring and large windows, to judge by the shadows on the floor.

J and I really wanted to jump down through the hole to see where it went. I was wishing there was a pole, like a fireman's pole, but realized the hole was too small to put one in. We both were thinking that we wanted to buy the house right then and there. Just to see where the other part of the house was (obviously somewhere in the world with sunlight, or really bright lights outside.)

We went into the chocolate room, and noticed that there was no opening in the ceiling to match the one in the floor above. I wondered if the trip was a two way trip, or if we'd better make sure we had our passports when we popped through the hole. The realtor refused to go back upstairs with us when we decided to finish the tour of the house. By the time we were done touring the four upstairs bedrooms and two bathrooms, both huge, the realtor was gone. The house keys were on the desk by the front door, and there was a copy of the deed with stickies showing where to sign, and a will.

I opened the will and began to read, the short of it was that it appeared that if there was anyone who could see the "portal" they were to inherit the estate immediately,  and the lawyer and realtor were to get a rather hefty bonus for making it happen in less than three days.... J picked up a business card, "I'll be back in twenty minutes," was written on the back in green ink. "Sign the papers if you want the house."

I tried to call my folks while J tried to call R, but we had no cell service. I assumed the realtor was going somewhere with cell service to call the law firm.

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.

"Sure."

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?"

"Yes."

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."

Dreamlands Zoo an Amusement Park. Dimension Doors.

Night before last I dreamed I was with some friends at the Dreamlands Zoo, which is really as much an amusement park as a zoo. As we were strolling around, we noticed people suddenly convulsing, and then collapsing, then rising again with classic zombie features. Some of them threatened to go into the enclosures after the trapped animals.

We decided that wasn't going to happen, and rather than running away with the rest of the crowd, we went after the zombies, and used ourselves as bait to lure them into one of the ride enclosures. The ride operator helped us out by starting the ride after we got the bulk of them in the loading area. We hopped on a car, and were able to jump off of the roof of it onto the control booth as it went by. It was a rather long jump, about eight feet, easy for me, but for one of our shorter members we ended up grabbing her by the arms as she fell just short of the roof. She lost her shoes to the zombies below. I told her it would be okay, as there were plenty of shoes in the gift shop.

I carried her piggy back to the gift shop, followed by more zombies as we went. In the gift shop I had to tell her to just pick all the ones her size she could carry, as the zombies were getting close and she didn't have time to pick her favorites. I had to toss the shoes out of their boxes into a bag and then pick her up to get out of the store before we closed the zombies in by lowering the security gates. We found ourselves in a little back stage area, going through shoes. She found a pair of sneaker boots that fit, but they weren't a color she liked. Bright red, so I liked them. I told her to grab any that fit which were the color she liked, and we could take them with us. I figured the boot top sneakers would be better at stopping ankle biters. We joined the others with five or six pairs of tan shoes in a large theme park bag.

There were about twenty of us, warily eying one another, waiting for the telltale symptom of impending infection. Victims' heads would pop off, turn over in the air and land back in place, but transformed by a greenish tint. Then the convulsions and collapse would happen. Anyone who was near when a head popped off might get splattered by goo and become infected. Amazingly, no one had been bitten, and the zombies, once they were rounded up, were remarkably docile. I was glad no one had panicked and started killing them. I was pretty sure that there would be some sort of magical cure, eventually.

I climbed out onto the roof of the building and looked out over the theme park and zoo. Several of the keepers waved to let me know they were okay. I asked if there was enough food for the critters for a couple of days. They indicated that there was. Then I took off into the air and headed for the center of Dream City to find out if there were some EMRTs available. (Emergency Mage Response Team) The dream just sort of fell apart at that point.


This morning's dream was suffused with a dark and brooding atmosphere, amber tones and deep purple and blacks in the sky. There was a haze that blocked out any sign of stars or moon, and diffused the pale amber lights from inside the house.

I entered the house, and there was no furniture in the front room. The carpet was threadbare, a path worn between the front door and the kitchen, and, oddly, between the left and right walls of the room.
As I stood there, pondering where I needed to look next, a man, very similar in build and manner to myself, stepped through the wall on my left, running, and into the wall on the right. I checked the walls, they were solid enough. I thought perhaps it was a ghost. Just to be sure, I entered the dining area and turned down the hallway to the right, checking to see if the apparition ended up in the front bedroom. No. There was a musty curved front chest, a ragged shag carpet (dark green from moss or its original color I couldn't tell) and the remains of a bed frame, six slats and two long rust marks between a collapsed footboard and a headboard with rotted fabric and hairlike stuffing on its face. The headboard was leaning back against the wall, where water stains showed it had been in that place a considerable time.

There were no signs of traffic through the room other than myself. I retreated back to the kitchen and began cleaning up the place with brooms and mops that were in much better shape than the rest of the house.

The house was essentially nine squarish rooms:

Bath and Hall to backyard, Kitchen, Master bedroom
dinette and hall, dining room, hall and closet and Master bath
Bedroom, front room, Bedroom with round front chest of drawers.

There were only two exterior doors, one in the front room, and one at the hallway between the kitchen and bathroom. The kitchen was a very '50s looking affair with white and chrome appliances that had rounded corners. Once I had everything cleaned up I moved a table into the front room and covered it with the best tablecloth I could find in the linen closet. I then set out a number of food items and drinks.

The next person who burst through the wall almost crashed into the buffet. They stopped and noticed me, and it was an awkward hemming and hawing. Yes, we had the same name, too. I could feel some sort of connection and he took a snack and excused himself, promising to come back.

Another pair of people shot through the room. They went around or leaped over the table. While both exhibited the same uncanny resemblance to myself, one of them was decidedly female. It occurred to me that I might want to discover why they were running. The last pair had left wet marks on the walls they had passed through. When I touched the water, I noticed that it didn't feel right. I pushed my hand into the wall, and then through it. I looked at the direction they had gone, and decided to go after them, rather than in the direction of whatever was where they were running from. I crossed the room and pushed my way through the wall, a green glow filled my vision as I pushed through. I stepped out into a bloody red sky and blackened ruins. There was a solid chunk of wall behind me, and no indication of where the folks who were ahead of me went. I turned back and pushed myself through the wall and ended up back in my place.

The woman was waiting for me. She was snacking and perched on the end of the table. Her presence was a little unnerving, she was both me and the opposite of me at the same time. Her height was about four inches less than my own, but her hair and eyes were the same, her expressions so very much like my own, just a little softer, and rounder. "You're like a sister, one I never knew I had."

"Closer than that. I'm your X chromosome doubled. We are nearly genetically identical."

"Then the men..."

"Closer that actual twins."

"Clones?"

"Not exactly. Just other...possibilities."

She then took me on a quick tour of the other possibilities, except one because, "things are a little hot there, right now."

There was essentially a path out of each room of the house, except the dining room, as it didn't really have its own walls, the front room passage was the quickest to navigate, and went between their party house and the ruins I'd seen earlier. "We don't know what happened there, and we don't spend any time there, it's even creepier than here."

"Thanks."

"Just calling how we see it, your house just feels wrong."

I have to admit, I felt much the same way about it. I was pretty sure I didn't actually come from this place originally.

"How many of you...us?"

"Eight, though one died, and then there's you, so...nine." She looked around the blue green world we were in. "Odd, we really thought there was just one per room in the hub, your house. But then there's you." All of the homes we'd traveled through, except the ruins, had indeed had eight or nine rooms, not all of them were square, though, some were linear, or two lines, some "u" shaped, and one was two four room apartments connected by a breezeway.

"Maybe I'm not one of your eight," I suggested, but immediately knew that wasn't true. "Or there are nine.

She agreed that nine was probably the right number, but wondered if that meant there was a ninth place we could travel to. I wondered that, too. "That has to be where you are from, though!"

I hadn't thought of that, but I didn't have any idea how to get us there. At least, I didn't until I noticed the round front chest of drawers sitting in an overgrown part of this house's yard. I walked over towards it, and as I did so, it glowed slightly, and made a noise like my cell phone alert. A low whine and then vibration. The glow strengthened and then faded in time with the alert.

"Never seen that before," she said.

Another one of us showed up, sandwich in hand. "Thanks for the grub," He wiped his palm on his pants and we shook hands. There was a nearly electric jolt went through both of us. "Wow, he's like us, only old."

"Thanks," I coughed. I did then note that all of the others had also been mid twenties looking.

It wasn't long before there were half a dozen of us, including another female me, but with long red hair. "She dyes it." the first woman wispered when she noticed me looking at it.

"Interesting, my hair used to be reddish like that when I was in my twenties," I had quite the clear memory of my image in a large vanity mirror, and indeed, the me of the dream, now white haired, had once had reddish brown hair.

"Oh..."

"Told you."

We turned back to the chest of drawers, I could feel it pull at me, and the glow was more pronounced. I gestured towards it, and the drawers started to open, flooding the yard with a greenish light. We all gestured towards the bulky piece of furniture and pulled, until there was a wooden frame filled with a bright green glow.

"So, who's first."

I was, but I just ended up surrounded by cats and staring into the alarm light next to my bed. No other me around. (Probably a good thing, that would have freaked me out.)

Dreamlands Zigzag

Particularly convoluted would be two words to describe this morning's dream. Started in the Hill House, reconstruction appears, for now, to be finished. The house is much smaller than it was, though it is still three stories tall. It also appears to be far less haunted, and the carriage house is much more modern, with electric lights and charging stations for vehicles as well as a three hundred gallon gasoline tank. (Elevated and behind a bunker.) The various ghosts and other haunts seem of a much milder variety than in previous years.

I rolled out the electric car, pushing it out of the carriage house rather than driving it. The vehicle had very narrow tires, and a steering bar, or tiller, that thrust out from under the nose of the vehicle. I folded the tiller up and disengaged it before climbing up into the driver's seat, releasing the hand brake, and then rolling down the hill, topping off the high-speed capacitors all the way to the bottom of the hill. I could see the gauge that showed the capacitors charging and then discharging as I accelerated up the little ramp that took me onto the elevated "Overway" that crossed most of the valley before breaking into a series of little off ramps all over the Dream City. I took the off ramp to work.

There I found that my office had been moved back to the old District Offices. I had a box of my few personal possessions and arrived at my old desk. I opened the drawers and discovered that I had left some things behind eleven years ago when I moved to the new offices. We'd only been allowed to put up two personal items in the new offices, as any more would break the illusion of "efficient conformity" that was one of the goals of the new administration.

As I opened the various drawers I found several articles of clothing that I had long forgotten. One of the denim shirts and a pair of genes were turned inside out, and had alterations marked in chalk. The alterations would have turned the the items into something much smaller, and cut in such a way as to flatter a feminine form. I wondered if they would fit my new girlfriend, so folded them neatly on top of the desk to take home. I also found about a half dozen toys I'd somehow collected over the years and immediately set them out on the desk and nearby book case, as there would certainly be plenty of room for them now. I did unbox my inbox, and sorted through the mail. All advertisements, only a couple of which even pertained to my new job. I tossed them into the shredder, then bagged the shreddings to take home to the composter/pelletizer. I wondered how many more mailing lists I'd have to be on if I'd had the Hill House fully restored to its former size. (Apparently the house was powered by a combination of solar and a pellet burning furnace. There was a gasoline generator for emergencies, but it was only used once a month or so to power up party night, and to make sure it stayed in working condition.)

At the end of my re-decorating, I headed out of town and up the ramp out of the dreamlands.

I was then visiting my parent's house. Mom and Dad had been clearing out the garage and had come across a number of papers in some foreign language. I agreed to look them over, figuring that they were likely my sister's old homework, as she is the polylingual one of us. The pages, however were not homework. They looked like some sort of immigration forms, or applications and they seemed to be filled out in Latin rather than German.

The handwriting was unfamiliar, and wildly different. Some of the newer forms had even been typed onto directly, I could feel the texture of the letter strikes on the back of the form. I sat down on the end of the couch best lit by the light from the sliding glass window.I tried to make out the words, "Hodi Doxi" were the only things I could make out, as they were in a box much larger than the rest of the text, when the light failed, becoming almost pitch black. A large raven flew into the sliding glass door with a thump, Then cawed and came in through the cat door. That made me wonder why the door had been unsealed. Mom and Dad haven't had cats in several years now, and Mom is terrified of birds, so certainly wouldn't have opened up the door for the raven.

At that moment I realized there'd been a big black raven in last night's dream as well. That, of course tipped off that I was dreaming and I struggled awake.

The Latin looks like it could be today(currently) "hodi" is technically an adverb (just looked it up, it can also be an adjective) but I didn't see a verb. Doxi  is less certain as it is not a form I have ever seen. There is a "doxa/ae" so perhaps: Decoration (Adornment/Glory?) The root is also used for "doxologia" or a hymn. However, it is more likely just random words my brain tried to fit on the page. Glory Today, perhaps.

New House, New Furniture, New Books, New Cat

I dreamed I packed up the cats and moved to a new house. Not smaller, but larger, two stories and a large front yard with a steep slope down to the sidewalk. The movers couldn't figure out how to get the bed into the house so they left it assembled outside under the bedroom window. I tried to explain that they needed to take the parts of the bed inside before assembling it. This seemed to confound them even further. The best I could do was get them to put the bed in the garage, but since I had a ton of unpacked books in the garage I didn't have room for the bed there, either. They weren't willing to move the books into the house to make room for the bed, either. I realized I was going to have to hire someone other than the moving company to finish moving me in, and it ticked me off.

I finally gave up and sent them away, frustrated that they had crushed half the tulip bed in front of the house. I sat on the bed and sent a complaint to the corporate headquarters, then watched, getting more depressed, as the sprinklers came on and the one under the bed gushed (the head was probably broken off, of course) a torrent of water that washed out a gully in the front yard before I could find the sprinkler shutoff. I managed to get the window to the bedroom open and it was tall enough for me to put every part of the bed through it except the mattress. One of my new neighbors stopped by and helped me pick it up and slide it in through the front door on it's side. Somehow we managed to do it without getting it muddy, or even wet. (Unlike the base of the bed, which was soaked.) Fortunately the master bedroom had a stone floor, and so I set up the dehumidifier to help dry everything out. I thanked my neighbor with the last of the grapes from the vine at the old house.

I went to see what had happened to the rest of the house, and was pleased to see that my library/study had been set up (on the second floor) and there were a dozen book cases around the walls, the room was large, built as a billiards room originally, big enough for two tables and no elbow bumping. My new desk and computer took up a small corner near the door, and there was room for my old dining table (now relegated to gaming) and all of its rather large chairs. There was an elevator on one end of the room and a large bathroom opposite. I had originally thought of using this room as my master bedroom, but in looking around felt I had made the correct decision. I decided to hire a couple of college students to sort and shelve my books, as I had come into a large collection of reference books by winning a contest from a publisher of engineering and other reference works. (The sorts of things that a writer might find very useful.)

I went downstairs (well, used the elevator just to make sure it was working properly) and opened up the kitty room to check on the fur children. Their room opened up onto an enclosed patio, and the older cats were sitting out in the sun, looking over the back yard from vantage points that would allow them to keep tabs on the kitten. The kitten, a little Chloe like calico, was bounding around the room, chasing butterflies. As soon as she leaped at one it would pop up out of the way, and then land between her ears, teasing the tufts of fur in her ears with its wings. There were at least four of them playing with her. I cold tell that Teddy wanted to play along, but was busy being the dignified elder of the group. (Apparently Little John, Miranda and Fawn were gone and he was the new alpha cat - and taking the job very seriously.) Giles was actually slimmer than his current meatloaf like self and was entertaining himself by licking a window screen. Ember was eagerly watching the butterflies, but backed up any time the kitten rolled close to her.

I was pleased that they had settled in so well after the move. They were doing much better than I was. Just watching my cats made me feel calmer and mostly happy. A tiny part of me wished I had someone special to share it with.

Reunion, Flying Romance, Returning the Cat

In my first dream of the night, I was reunited with the Nerd Girl (Star Wars) who was my first flame. We are both chubby old fans now, and the fire of passion that burned through us as young adults has long passed, however, we did have a good time at one of our smaller local science fiction conventions.

I knew the reunion wouldn't be long lasting, however, as she reeked of camels. When I mentioned this, our long time friend got insulted and smacked me. I had to explain that I smelled not the spitting one humped kind, but the cigarette kind.

"Oh, sorry." 

"I asked for it, I suppose."

"She only smokes those to cover up the other smell."

"I smelled that, too, and even though I'm not opposed, the last person I was with chose that over me, so - not an inducement to explore a long term romance either."

"It would of been so romantic if you'd gotten back together."

"I suppose, but we didn't grow into somebodies we could love."


And with that I was off into the next dream. It was Almost a Super Power Tuesday! The woman I was dating had the almost a super power of flight (which I would argue is legitimately a super power) however, she could only fly if she was bottomless. (Which did limit the appeal of flying, at least for her. Not so much for the rest of us.) If she knew she was going to want to fly somewhere she would wear either stretchy shorts that were easy to pull down, or short, really short skirts and just pull down her panties.

My almost a super power was to become small, about 8 inches tall. The power, at least allowed everything I was wearing or carrying to shrink with me.

We seceded that it was dark enough to fly home after a long walk, so my GF pulled down her panties and indicated that I should sit on her backside.

"I think I'll use your panties as a hammock, you smell yummie." She sighed and lifted me into her underwear and we took off into the sky. I was quite enjoying the view as she had to fly with her legs slightly apart to avoid losing her panties, and me.

"You are so going to owe me when we get home."

"I'll be happy to warm you right up." The dream ended before we got to that part.


I love flying dreams and the flying theme carried over into the following dream. I had managed to locate my girlfriend's favorite cat, played by Teddy Bearheart, my orange tabby. He'd gotten out and had somehow managed to avoid the zombies by climbing as high up as he could, and then leaping from roof top to rooftop when the crowd below got too large and noisy. I managed to hear him mewling above the noise, and climbed up a nearby empty house, then leapt over to the one he had gotten himself to. We jumped to the next house in the row, I was deliberately making noise to draw them with us. We finally came to a house where the zombies couldn't break down the fence to get into the next yard. (It had been raised and reinforced at some point in time.)

There were several hang gliders roped down to this roof. and the entire south end was covered with solar panels. I tried calling down to the people who had to be holed up down below, but there was no answer, though I thought I could hear them moving around. It was getting dark, and the wind was coming up. I made a rope ladder from some of the extra rope and dropped down into the back yard.

Like my house there was a large sliding glass door. The living room held four people aimlessly wandering in the dim LED light. There were no curtains on the windows, they were trampled and bloody under the shuffling feet. I realized that I was essentially only armed with a short sharp stick, and there were four of them, but they didn't seem to notice me. I realized that the light from the LEDs must have made the coated window like a mirror, and they could only see themselves. I, however, could see that they had several book cases in the room full of MREs and dried goods. Enough to keep a couple of people in kibble for at least a year. I knew I was going to have to come back here to clear the place out.

I found myself sneaking around the back of the herd in the dark, then closing the gate of that house's fence behind them. At least the neighborhood herd was mostly contained now.

I climbed back up, and borrowed a second sling from one of the hang gliders. It took a bit of doing to coax Teddy into the sling, but I got him tied in and hung under myself. "Sorry about the bumps, guy, it's going to be okay."

I launched myself into the air on one of the hang gliders. The nylon rope paid out on a heavy spool that I could barely control. I took a few moments to get the glider under control and slowly climbed out to the maximum height the rope would allow. I hoped it would be enough to glide back to my own house. I let go of the rope and the glider immediately went into a nose dive, causing Teddy to shriek.

The herd looked up and I was headed directly for them. I managed to pull out of the dive a hundred feet or so above them and started to climb out, circling wide until I was lined up with the road that led back home. Fortunately I have a wide front yard. Only, I really needed to get into the back yard, as that had the only entrance into the house that wasn't completely boarded up . I angled over, judging my glide, and guessing that I was going to have trouble getting by the two story house next to mine. Or I was going to land in that back yard and have to jump the reinforced fence.

Unfortunately it became obvious that neither plan was going to work, the wind was behind me, and I was barely above the roofs of the houses on the mesa above us, the wind was getting turbulent and I couldn't control the hang glider. I managed to get us onto the roof of the house two doors down. We slide to the edge of the roof and I managed to get out of the sling. Teddy was howling and I could hear zombies out on the street moving towards us. I managed, somehow at the last second to grab a tree branch and used it to swing us out over the lawn and then back to the covered balcony of the house. This house had been locked up tight and we hadn't even tried to break in, as the lower story was completely boarded up. I let Teddy out of his bag, he immediately quieted and cowered at my feet.

I stood a long while, stick in hand, listening. The creatures outside made it difficult to hear if there was anything or anyone inside. The moon was up outside, on the other side of the room from the windows we'd come through, of course. I backed up to the wall and slid along it, Teddy slinking about five feet behind me. I made my way to the back windows and pulled open the curtains. Moonlight filled the main room. It had been set up as a TV room at one time, a big screen dominated one wall, and the bathroom and master bedroom were behind me. There was a small bar to one side of the TV, and stairs to the other. There was no furniture in the room. I stepped out into the room and could see dust float up into the beams of moonlight. I made my way over to the stairwell, it was full of furniture. I turned back to the master bedroom. The door was locked. I tapped gently. No answer, no shuffling, either. The bathroom door was locked as well. Teddy was chasing rodents in the moonlight. At least he would eat well tonight. I stepped out of the musty air into the night on the balcony. The zombies had shuffled up the street to investigate the noise of the now trapped herd.

Finally, a break. I called to Teddy, who picked up his unfinished meal and trotted out to me. We climbed down the tree next to the balcony and I picked Teddy up and ran for our house.

I stopped. There in the middle of the street was my GF from the Almost Super Power Tuesday dream. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Rescuing my girl friend's favorite cat." I just sort of stood there, confused.

She pulled down her panties and turned around, pointing to the cleft in her now bare and amazingly cute bottom. "Mount up!"

I shrunk down, with Teddy, and she lifted us up to her backside, then thought better of it and put us in her panties. She jumped into the air and flew up and around circling the house looking for a place to land. "Don't worry, we'll get the handsome kitty back to his owner. And then you're going to owe me."

You won't see that on the Walking Dead.

Hawaiian Shirt Noisy

    Last night's dreams were all over the map, but seemed to have one theme, they were Hawaiian Shirt noisy. By that I mean both the colors and sounds of the dreams. Sometimes I woke with the "What the heck was that?" memory, nothing but sounds and lights, bright patterns and little of anything making any semblance of sense.
    Colors were sounds, and sounds were oddly visible, the refrigerator running was a galloping blue and charcoal gray, the cat meows were bright gold and metal flake red swooshing loops, people voices were odd little checkered patterns that undulated in a variety of colors.
    I was, in one scene, drifting up near the ceiling in my front room, and there were four inch high people running around on my dining table, trying to set up some sort of stick and string tower. I remember thinking that it would be so easy for me to tie the sticks together, if I had hands. That scene, too, eventually broke into a riot of dueling colors and sharp staccato bursts of meaningless sound.

Hand Tools

            I found myself working underwater, in my house. It seems the floor had collapsed into a sink hole, and the sink hole had a few feet of bromine scented water at the bottom. I was trying to dig myself a path out using my hands, which had turned into a hammer and chisel. I wasn't holding a hammer and chisel, my hands were the hammer and chisel.

Little Flowers, Hungry Grub

I dreamed I was giving a tour of the house and the conversation came around to flowers. One of the people who were looking at the house asked which flowers were my favorites on the property.

I took them out to the front, explaining that they were not in bloom here at the start of winter, but there were some great miniature flowers that looked a lot like gold and orange pansies. The flowers are only about 5mm across, though. I also found a small patch of the 3mm blue and purple geraniums which were in bloom.

"But those are weeds."

"Only if you don't want them."

I took them inside and showed them where I'd put up several 8x10 framed photos of flowers. "All of these are from the miniature flowers in this yard."

"I thought those were all from some sort of exotic flower show."

"No," I smiled, "All of these grow here in this yard, or in the cracks in the sidewalks of the neighborhood. We are so programmed to see only the big and showy, we miss a whole lot of the beauty of the world. It would take a lifetime to exhaust the photographic opportunities of this neighborhood alone."

We went back outside to look for more little plants and found, instead, a large grub who'd been cut in half. The grub was consuming itself; trying to fill up the emptiness caused by it's missing back end.

Ant Farm

              I dreamed we were getting rid of the large potted palm tree. (A tree which we don't actually have.) The two large ant colonies were somehow warned that we were moving and decided to move out. The small black and brown ants streamed out in a single file line, carrying their eggs and larvae with them. The larger red ants (just recently making a comeback in this part of California) piled out in a large sheet of red. The sheet filled the table they were on and then stopped, keeping a respectful distance from the line of escaping Brazilian ants.
              I could tell that they were a bit stymied. They didn't roam much out of the tree, using it not only for a home but for sustenance as well, they had aphids or something they farmed up in the crown and scavenged the leavings of the ravens that nested in the dead fronds. I asked them to wait a second and went and got a sheet of 17x22 inch paper from my office. I ferried a bunch of them to the edge of the patio and then sprinkled a line of them back to the leg of the table so they could create their own escape route away from the smaller black and brown ants.
              I believe the red queen waved at me as she and her attendants made their way out of the trunk of the dying tree and off the table out into the yard.
              “Stay out of N's roses and you should be all right.” I told them and went back into the house to let N know the tree was almost ready to move. I didn't tell her about the ants, as I didn't think she'd understand.

Sleeping Outside.

              I dreamed than N and I moved our sleeping arangements outside onto the catio. We were using the hammock, and had moved a couple of end tables out. I was on the phone with someone explaining to them that we did bring everything inside if it started raining heavily, but not for just a misty drizzle. That's what the canopy was for.

              It was drizzling in the dream.

Judge Swing

              I was bicycling and debating with the pretty brown-haired Judge. It was after dark so I didn't want her to have to bicycle home alone, especially since her bike didn't have a light on it. She rode in front and I had loaned her my wind-up light so she could see the road ahead. My bike had a working tail-light so I rode right behind her.
              During the trip, we were discussing the case of a student who posted a link that led to a video of a comedian who was reading the preamble to the constitution, translated into “Ebonics.” Not in and of itself a problem, except that the video was profuse with profanity. The parents, of course, sued the school district for violating the student's first amendment rights. A fairly complex case, because the words and video, were not in fact the students. The link had been accompanied by a warning about the profanity, and it was only posted in the comments section of a class forum.
              I made the argument that the removal of the video from its site would be a first amendment violation, if the creators had posted it. The Judge indicated that the school owned the forum and therefore had the right to remove the offending link and discipline the student. I listened to her argument, and told her that I had to agree, up to a point. The infraction was one of bringing a profanity laced publication into a discussion, to which it was, in fact, relevant, not one of misusing a computer in an attempt to harm the network or affect another's use of the system. So the schools punishment, a semester banished from using the computer, was akin to a school punishing a “Playboy” recommender by telling them they couldn't read anything for a semester.
              She asked what I thought a proper punishment would be.
              I told her that I didn't really believe in punishment as much as restitution. So in this case, I would say an apology was in order, a reiteration of the code of conduct as it involved the classroom forum, and I would tell the student that otherwise they did a good job of using their specific skills they'd learned to branch out into the realm of public discourse, which is, after it's all said and done, exactly what we want them to be able to do.
              The judge nearly crashed her bike and I had a hard time braking in time to keep from piling on.
              “You just made me change my mind. No one ever does that.”
              “You're a judge, I thought you were supposed to keep an open mind.”
              “You don't have to after you've made a decision. The parents would have been much better off having you as an attorney. You conceded the First Amendment point by going completely around it and went right to the meat of the matter. They didn't think the punishment imposed was appropriate. Too bad they didn't argue that.”
              “It gets into the whole mandatory sentencing thing, where we forget that we are human beings with human failings and that justice is a human concept not a natural concept. We end up trying to eliminate the human from justice in the name of fairness, but then lose that essential part of the whole idea of justice.”
              The Judge just looked at me, an odd expression on her face. “There's street lights, I'll race you home,” and with that she took off like a shot.
              I took off after her, but was no where near in as good a shape as her, and with her head start she vanished around the bend before I could see where she went. Fortunately I remembered the name of the street where she lived and was able to brake and turn in when it came up. The house, I thought, was going to be tough to find if I didn't see her bike outside.
              There was only one house with lights, on, though, so I rolled up to the house and knocked on the door.
              A teen opened the door, I hesitated, as the judge didn't have any children. The teen was very perceptive, and smiled, “She's my aunt, come in.” The teen skipped into the front room where there were piles of luggage and the rest of her family.
              The teen's father, I was guessing because of the age difference and similar hair and skin tones, greeted me, “So, you're the one my baby sister is in love with.”
              I blushed. “We're friends, just biked home from visiting my wife and I.”
              At that point the judge came into the room, having all ready taken off her jacket and with a towel around her neck. Her blouse was a very silky looking shimmer of creme that clung to her breasts and hung damply from her erect nipples. I tried not to stare. She took my arm and introduced me around.
              “I have your flashlight in my room. Come see the rest of the house, you haven't been here yet.”
              I followed her on a tour of the house. I pretty much forgot it all when we got to her room. A large mirror made up the headboard, and the canopy bed was done up in leopard patterned sheers with a chocolate brown cover. There was a trapeze or swing seat at the foot of the bed which she raised up out of the way with the soft whirr of electric motors.
              “Wow, sexy,” I turned to take in the whole low but warmly lit cream and brown experience. I suppressed the urge to make a swinging comment.
              “Not what you expected from a middle aged Judge?”
              “You're not yet middle aged, and no, seeing it, I have to say it fits you.”
              I looked into her eyes and immediately saw trouble. She was, in fact in love with me, or at least lust.
              “I have something else for you, just a moment I have to make sure our trip gets off. Wait right here.”
              I waited a moment or two, and then the whole house lurched and swung. I felt a slight acceleration and stepped out into the front room. “Where's...”
              “She's gone to make sure the connections are set.” The older brother pointed to the front door. “She said we should all wait her until she returns." The house rocked gently.
              “Right. I have to get home, though, so I'll see if I can catch up to her.”
              I opened the front door. The whole house had been set down on a rail car and was rolling towards a siding. I could see the judge up ahead along side the tracks, ahead of the electric engine that was pulling us. The front door was attached to a long horizontal pole, steel with the yellow enamel warning stripes peeling in places it was at least twenty feet long. The pole looked like it was about to catch onto brush along side the tracks so I stepped out and pushed the door shut behind me.
              “You're going to ruin the surprise!” came a shout from far ahead in the darkness.
              “I have to get home.”
              “Come with me, we're vacationing in the Rockies this year, three weeks.”
              “N's going to be waiting for me.”
              “I've been waiting for you. My whole life.”
              I walked along side the slowing house, realizing that my bike was back in the yard, so I would have to walk all the way back and I had the idea that was pretty far now.
              “I haven't anything packed.”
              “I'll keep you warm, and happy.”
              “I have no doubt, and that's really an attractive offer. I don't have words for how attractive. But you really wouldn't want a man who would drop his commitment to you for the first highly educated, intellectually stimulating and sexy woman who came along, would you?”
              “How often has that happened to you?”
              “Twice, I married the first one.”
              “But, you're the right one for me, and you know it.”
              We stood across the switch control looking into one another's eyes. I could feel the longing.
              “I have fallen in love with you, mister.”
              “And I with you, despite by best efforts not to. But I have made other promises...”
              “Which you will keep, making me love you all the more.”
              She wrapped herself around me and I held her as the house creaked to a stop behind us.
              “Let's call N and let her know I'm sending you home late.”
              "I don't know that she'd go for that." There was a large part of me that was concerned that this was a ploy to get me back in the house where I would be trapped. Even if it wasn't a trap, I didn't know that I would have the strength to leave again.
              “Or, better yet, let's call N and invite her along.” The Judge took my hand and lead me back towards the front door.
              I pulled out my cell phone, which brought a pout (a very sexy pout) to the Judge's cherubic face, my suspicions deepened.
             

Childhood Home, Native Reality

              Housing market is horrible, so I went back to Virginia to the two story house my parents had built when I was six years old. The house was empty, having been abandoned by its previous owner. I looked around, enjoyed the fact that the floor tiles were still the same in my old bedroom, marveled at how small the windows and staircase looked now, and how narrow the bedroom was. I went out into the front yard and looked at the over thirty year old dogwoods in the front yard.
              “My grandfather planted those in the spring of the year before we left. I'm surprised they haven't destroyed the driveway.”
              “The driveway was replaced a few years ago, it floats above the roots now,” the realtor explained. “There is a problem with this house, though, it has been in a fire.”
              “I know about that, it happened a year or two after we moved out.”
              “No, more recently than that. A neighbor here doesn't like the house and wants it torn down.”
              “Why is that?”
              “It blocks his view of the the forest.”
              I looked around. Where there was once a forest at the end of the block of the cross street, the road now continued into more housing.
              “We need to go talk to the neighbor, I don't think there's a forest to be seen.”
              So, I went and talked to the neighbor about the long missing forest. The neighbor had lived in the house behind us for several years, and hadn't actually been out of the house in all that time. Turns out they had lived in the house as children, right about the time we lived there. The person was still upset that the trees had been cut down to build our house.
              “I see. You realize that was over forty years ago?”
              They didn't seem to believe me.
              I went back to my old house and took a deeper look at it. There was an unfinished solar tube installation in the attic room. I found the round glass ball like lens and mounted it in the open tube at the top of the roof. The attic was much lighter for it. I'd never been in the attic when we lived there, and didn't know that there was so much space. There was even a set of small paned windows that looked out over the pink and white dogwood trees.
              The roof joists and floor beams were in terrible shape, however, rotted almost to a paper like consistency. It was only a matter of time before the whole place collapsed, and a short time rather than a long time, I thought.
              I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. The realtor was attempting to salvage the refrigerator, which was a large over under model finished in forest green shag carpeting. It had two large googly eyes (about three inches across) glued to the front of the top door. The black plastic eyeballs rolled under their clear plastic frame as the fridge tipped left and right.
              “Let's at least get this outside before the explosion takes the place out.”
              “What explosion?” I asked.
              “You just set the demolition collector above the horn. When it's fully charged a blast of flame will fill up the kitchen here and blow through the front, causing the whole place to come down.”
              “What?” I ran upstairs, winded by the time I climbed into the attic. Sure enough, there was a large funnel like horn under the solar tube, and the glass lens was growing brighter by the moment.
              “Get out of there before it goes off!” I heard a shout from below.
              “I don't think we have to demolish the whole thing!”
              “Too late now. Your neighbor is paying for it!”
              “My neighbor?”
              “Yes, you set the collector in place, so now it's your property.”
              I couldn't see the logic in that and was rushing to get out of the house.
              As I ran out the front door there was a loud “Whoosh!” from above me and I felt a blast of heat push me gently out onto the front lawn.
              The whole house collapsed in on itself behind me. I helped the realtor wrestle the green shag refrigerator to the end of the driveway.
              She looked at my little Honda Insight. “I don't think this will fit.”
              “I wasn't planning on buying a fridge.”
              “Oh, it comes with the house, no charge.”
              I looked at the burning pile of rubble that had been my childhood home. I was hoping it wouldn't catch the trees on fire.
              “Well, your neighbor is paying for the new house, so you are in luck.”
              “How so?”
              “The lot alone is only worth about thirty k more than your down payment. Less if you want to just buy it outright.”
              I did a quick calculation and I could easily afford it. “Okay, but where am I going to live in the mean time?”
              “You can stay at my house.”
              That caught me completely by surprise. I could tell, though, that she was far more interested in the refrigerator than myself. I could live with that. I figured I could give her the fridge as a going away present when my house was completed.

              I had another dream this morning, but all I recall is three highly decorated staves. Feathers, beads, silk and other rich fabric wrapped poles in a single umbrella stand. I also remember talking to a white haired native American fellow, but the only thing I remember saying is “This is a highly dubious reality.”

Messenger for the Undead, (Warning: Long)

       I dreamed a long convoluted dream that started in some sort of broken down shrine on top of a lush green hill. There was a storm raging across the valley below, but myself and about half a dozen couples and their children were huddled in the ruins. There were heavy winds, but the rain clouds were dumping their liquid ordinance before stranding themselves along the mountainside. The winds were damp and chill as well as fierce. I watched the lightning play about the tops of the rainclouds that thundered by at nearly eye level. After a fairly short time, the rainclouds dissipated and the smell of wet earth in the sunshine rose from the valley.
       “Perhaps we can find a place to stay in the village,” said an older woman, pointing to what looked more like ruins than a living village.
       “OK, someplace with a roof and a working bath would be nice.”
       We all drove down the hill. I in my little electric car, and the rest in SUV hybrids and solar powered vans. The village was not as ramshackle as it looked from the shrine. There were people about, they spoke Japanese and very limited English. All of the families found either a place to rent, or someone to take them in. One family and myself found ourselves saying we would take an old house that stood in a state of mild disrepair on the outskirts of town. I chose it because it was empty, and quite a bit upslope from where it looked like flood waters had risen in the past.
       A woman showed us up to the house and turned over some keys to the father of the family I was with. She took me aside and warned me that the house was haunted, and that I should try to keep the children out of the basement. I looked into her eyes as I thanked her and noticed they were a deep violet rather than the ubiquitous brown of the local population.
       “What?”
       “You have lovely eyes, very unusual.”
       I thought I saw them shimmer and shift a little bit.
       “Th-Thank you,” the woman blushed.
       I bowed as she stuck out her hand. She bowed as I stuck out my hand. We laughed, and shook hands.
       “By the way, you speak excellent English.”
       “Silly, mister, she's speaking Japanese,” one of the children giggled.
       “Ah, right. Origato,” I turned to thank the woman but she was all ready far down the path.
       “Let me drive you back to the village.” I shouted to her.
       “I'll be fine. Thank you.” The woman called back up the hill and then broke into a sort of hopping jog down the rest of the steep hill. The wind was picking up again, and it smelled like rain. The woman's skirts were tossed about by the wind, revealing her shapely calves and an occasional flash of thigh. For a moment her skirts looked like a tail as she entered the forest and vanished from sight.
       “Oh! She's a fox lady.” The child stood watching her go with her mouth open.
       “That's a foxy lady,” I corrected her, “and yes, yes she is.”
       I went inside to help the family unpack. My unpacking consisted of rolling out a futon and some blankets and plopping my travel case next to my pillow, it could wait. The son wandered into the kitchen and was trying to open up the cellar door.
       “No children in the basement. Our landlady insisted.”
       “Did she say why?” The mother looked worried.
       “No, but I will check it out when we have you settled in. It's probably just mold or dangerous junk piled up. No telling how long since someone lived here.”
       “Someone lived here...” I heard echo in the moans of the wind around the eaves.
       “Did you hear that?” the little boy asked.
       “The wind in the eaves made an echo.” I explained, even knowing that it wasn't really an explanation.
       “Please, have dinner with us, a thank you for helping us unpack.”
       “Domo origato,”
       “Yes, and after dinner you can check out the basement.”
       I felt that I couldn't wait for dinner, though, so opened up the door. There was a musty damp smell, but not overtly moldy. “I'll be right up.”
       Light filtered dimly through the dusty brown glass along the west wall of the basement. I could see very little in the room, but my first impression was of piles of bones and three old women sipping tea at a short round table, its intricate inlay covered with a dirty brown lace table cloth. I pulled my wind up flashlight out of my jacket pocket and cranked it up to full brightness. Outside the beam of the flashlight the basement seemed even dimmer and more full of debris.
       In the direct light of the flashlight, the basement was empty, except for the dust covered table and a triangle of flattened cushions about it. As the beam of the flashlight passed over things, they vanished, only to reappear populated in the fading daylight on either side of the beam. Voices, whispers, indistinct sprung up on either side of the beam.
       “You OK down there?”
       “Yeah, but I don't think anyone should come down here.”
       “Mold?”
       “No, it's haunted.”
       All conversation stopped in the basement. All conversation stopped at the top of the stairs.
       “What!?” the mother's voice shrieked down at me.
       “Bones, voices, three old ladies having tea. I'm going to try to make peace with them so we can stay until the pass is clear.”
       “What?”
       I turned off the flashlight. It took a couple of moments for the voices to come back, and then I could see men and women milling about. “It's freaking party down here.” I muttered.
       There was laughter from the vicinity of the table.
       I gingerly walked over trying not to knock over any piles of bones, and knelt at the table, greeting the old women with a deep bow.
       “Oh! He is so polite.”
       “Oh! He is so scared.”
       “Oh! He is so brave.”
       “Oh, he is right here and can hear you perfectly.” I said, feeling a little angry at being talked about like I wasn't even there. I let it pass, not really knowing how long it had been since the old women had talked to anyone but themselves.
       The conversation at this point was complex, a mishmash of English and Japanese, none of us seeming to hear one another in anything but our own language as long as we spoke directly to one another. Otherwise, all of the side chatter, and there was a lot of it, was in Japanese. Even I could tell that the accents and dialects were slightly different. During the course of our conversation I somehow managed to agree to take their petition to a fellow named Erukai, or some such. The three old women brewed up a special tea, and told me I had 24 hours, and to be careful, time wasn't the same “over there on the other side.”
       “Slower, or faster?”
       “Yes,” the three of them answered in unison.
       “Be careful,” said one ghostly man
       “Don't eat or drink over there,” advised a woman.
       “Our Samurai should have a sword,” said another.
       “I have this flashlight,” I offered, hopefully.
       “He's delivering a petition and bringing back an answer, for good or ill. He doesn't need a sword.” One of the old women handed me a rolled up parchment, another a case for it, and after I put the parchment in the case the third capped the case and sealed it with wax from a ghostly candle.
       “Take the road up to the shrine, then across the bridge.”
       “Leave your cart at the bridge, though,” added the most modern looking of the ghostly women. She smiled at me, a smile that was wider than I thought possible, and possessed of more teeth than I thought was strictly human. Still I couldn't help offer “Would you like to ride with me?”
       This made her blush, I didn't know that spirits even did. “Perhaps later, when you return with our freedom.”
       As I made my way up the stairs a male ghost stopped me “She will remember your offer, just don't let your attention wander from her.”
       The family all met me at the top of the stairs. Their eyes were all wide with barely controlled terror. “You'll be fine here, just stay out of the basement. I have an errand to run, so I will have to share dinner with you on another evening.”
       “Hai, yes, of course.”
       As I stepped out of the house I could hear them blocking the cellar door with several heavy objects.
       I found myself walking across a bridge that spanned the valley. It hadn't been here before, and while it was certainly wide enough to drive across, I left my car at the shrine as instructed. The bridge was long and shrouded in mist, about halfway across I lost sight of the valley below, and as I approached the far end, I could see others stepping off of the bridge. It was a light crowd. After I stepped off of the bridge I looked back and could see the bridge full of people, people I hadn't seen when I'd walked across alone. I thought I could make out my little red car parked outside the shrine in the distance. Odd that the mist didn't seem to cover the bridge. It was good to know that I would be able to find my way back.
       I found a traffic officer, he was wearing shades, even though night was falling. I asked after Erukai, and the officer directed me to the tallest tower in the distance. “Take a cab, it will get you there in much faster time.”
       I thanked him and as I walked away, realized that there were no frames for his shades, the grew right out of his eyebrows, and into his cheeks. His eye sockets behind the lenses were nothing but black pits in his head. I shuddered and ran to catch a cab.
       The cab was old, like early 50's era. The driver was a skeleton. We made the trip in silence, and I couldn't even convince him to take a fare.
       The building was large and modern. I entered the slightly over chilled lobby. I had my flashlight in one hand, in my pocket and the scroll case in the other. I asked the information officer, a tall slender blond woman with a gaping wound in her neck, for directions to Erukai's office. She handed me a paper map with some circled locations on it, and pointed me to the elevators.
       “Since it is only on the third floor wouldn't the stairs be faster.”
       “Wait for the elevator, and wait to arrive. Time never moves slower than when you are waiting. I think you want the time here to move slowly, given what you are.”
       “Ah! Ok, then I will wait for the elevator.”
       I waited.
       And waited.
       And glanced at my cellphone clock. No time had passed, though it seemed like minutes.
       I rode to the third floor and found it entirely dedicated to Erukai-san's enterprise, what ever that was. I found my way to his receptionist and she called in to him immediately.
       “You swordsman is here.”
       “Um, excuse me, I'm not a swordsman.”
       “You have the messenger case.”
       “Yes, I've volunteered to be a messenger, no one said anything about swords.” Which as soon as I said it I realized wasn't exactly true, one of the spirits had suggested that I needed a sword.
       “Only a Samurai can carry that case. Mister Erukai will see you now.”
       “Thank you,” I bowed, and she stood and bowed as well.
       I entered a large plush office, rich reds and browns in the carpet, the furniture was all burgundy leather and dark woods. Built in bookcases and scroll cases lined three walls. A large window took up the fourth wall. I was actually entering behind the desk and the chair was turned back to me.
       “Hello, Mister Erukai.”
       “You have something for me?”
       “A petition, I believe.”
       “You believe?” The chair turned around and I found myself facing a large man in a suit. He stood, I bowed. He nodded . He towered over me by at least three feet.
       I offered the scroll case to him.
       “You don't know what you are delivering?”
       “I was told it was a petition.”
       “You didn't read it?”
       “No, sir. I presumed I was to deliver it to you, seal intact.”
       “So you are not my swordsman, not a Samurai.”
       “No, sir.”
       He grunted. “You might be surprised. Still. I will look over this.”
       “I have been asked to bring back your reply, sir.”
       “Ah, I think I see now. Please, wait in my lobby.”
       “Yes, sir.”
       I saw the giant's clawed hand deftly cut the was seal and open the scroll as I backed out of the room. I gave a last look at all of the books trying to recognize a title or binding even. I bowed and Erukai nodded.
       “That was faster than I expected,” the receptionist spoke.
       “I am to wait for a reply.”
       “Please, take any seat you wish.”
       I chose a seat where I could see the receptionist, the office doors and the entrance to the lobby.
       “Would you like some refreshments?”
       I remembered the advice I'd been given, and what I'd learned from Greek myths of the underworld. I was thirsty, but declined.
       “Thank you I will just wait here.”
       “Suit yourself,” the blond looked at me for some time, I thought I caught her sniffing the air.
       I checked, I wasn't sweating, and didn't think I was too smelly. She went back to work, clacking away on her keyboard. I couldn't be sure, but found myself convinced that she wasn't actually breathing except when she inhaled to speak. I began to realize that I was into something much deeper than I thought, or understood.
       I checked my phone, over eight hours had elapsed since I'd called the cab! I resolved to wait, and nothing more, just wait.
       I waited.
       I waited some more.
       I waited while thirsty.
       I waited even more.
       Yep, still waited.
       Erukai entered the lobby. My time on my cell phone had not changed. The receptionist and I stood and bowed as one. Erukai smiled a great toothy smile at me. “I have your response. You will have to work hard to deliver it before your time runs out.”
       “Thank you, sir.” I bowed and without thinking offered my hand.
       He laughed and shook my hand. His hand was cold to the touch, but dry and strong. His claws were mostly folded under and I could feel their smooth backs on the back of my hand.
       “Have you any advice?”
       It was obvious my question caught him off guard.
       “Run or walk, and do nothing else while you run or walk. Touch no one. When the spell fades, you will take the state of the last being you have touched.”
       A young woman entered, she looked much like the woman who'd showed us the house. She skipped over to me and clutched my arm.
       “Oh, is this my swordsman, daddy?”
       “No, dear, this Samurai has a message to deliver for me.”
       Erukai's daughter let go of me with a little pout. “He was kind of soft, anyway.”
       I bowed. Choosing to ignore the girl's comment.
       “Thank you.” I left, hoping their next swordsman was better than the last. I had the impression that they might go through a lot of them.
       In the lobby I checked the clock on my phone. Another two hours had passed during what I thought was our short conversation. I ran down the stairs and out into the main street. It was crowded. I concentrated on walking, and avoiding the dead men and women crowding the street. I didn't want to be dead when the spell wore off. When I reached a park like across from which was the bridge, I broke into a run.
       Erukai's daughter jogged effortlessly up next to me.
       “Hello.”
       “Hi there, miss.”
       “I want to see if you really can make it.”
       “What?”
       “Almost no one ever does. But you, you are different. I think you are not what you seem on the outside.”
       “It's an enchantment.”
       “Ah ha! I thought so. I knew you felt different. Just keep running. I will be quiet and run with you.”
       “Thank you, miss.”
       She ran next to me, trying not to be distracting, which was, a bit, distracting. We reached a street overlooking the street that lead out onto the bridge. Where I wanted to be was at least twenty feet below. I looked for a way down, I couldn't see any in either direction. The street I was on was above a retaining wall and parallel to the street leading to the bridge. I decided to jump to the top of a vendor cart, and then down to a mailbox. I landed on the roof of the cart with a bang, then the mailbox, then the curb. I heard the bangs of following hoof falls; the daughter of Erukai behind me.
       “I wish you were my next swordsman. I've never had a Samurai before.”
       It unnerved me a bit, because it sounded like she was talking about dinner. I walked to the bridge.
       “Oh! Brave, walking like this when time is running out.”
       I didn't want to run into anyone, and found that when I was walking or running, un-distracted, time on the cellphone stopped. So it didn't really matter.
       I turned to look at the daughter and bumped into a man. He said nothing and continued on his way. I was not too happy about that. I could feel his deadness, and it lingered. I turned up to the bridge. There were hundreds of folks, young and old, though mostly older, soldiers, women, thin, fat. Some in hospital gowns, some in uniforms, some naked. I realized I was looking at the recently dead, and they were all streaming off of the bridge. I would be walking upstream. I tried to avoid any further touches, but realized it was futile in the crowd. A couple of people tried to tell me I was headed the wrong way. I looked for another walkway, perhaps lower down, but didn't see one.
       I'd also lost the daughter in the crowd.
       “Pardon me, coming through here, stay to your right!” I shouted. Not really expecting anything to happen. Curiously, the dead began to shift to the right and I lunged through the opening. I was resolved to dying, but hoping to make my delivery before doing so. “Stay to your right!” I shouted again, opening up more space.
       I reached the foot of the bridge, and as I shifted left and right, the people on the bridge shifted. I was looking for an empty bridge, with a little red car on the other end.
       I felt a touch on my shoulder. It was Erukai's daughter. “I thought I lost you.”
       “Thank you for cheering me on.”
       “Cheering you on. You're getting me out of here. Why have you stopped, you don't have much time!”
       “I'm looking for my car. I have to deliver this before the enchantment fades.” I indicated the scroll case.
       “I wonder what's in there.” She grabbed the case.
       I held on to it. “We'll know when it is delivered.”
       “You're no fun! What if it says to kill you?”
       “If I don't get out of here before the enchantment fades, I'm dead anyway.”
       I spotted my car across a nearly empty bridge. There was a woman standing on the bridge. I stepped onto the bridge, focused on holding onto the scroll case and making it to my car. The daughter stopped. “Please, stay with me.”
       “Another time, perhaps, you have been delightful company.”
       She leaned in and kissed me. “Run, Samurai, you can make it.” The lingering feeling of deadness was replaced by another feeling, lively but in a pent up sort of way.
       So I ran. As I reached the middle of the bridge, I recognized the foxy woman, and saw that she had a tail and foxes ears. The kid had been right.
       “Who or what touched you last?” she demanded.
       I kept running, forcing her to turn and run to catch up.
       “Erukai's daughter.”
       “Daughter? What daughter?”
       “We weren't properly introduced.”
       “What was she?”
       I wasn't sure about that, but I knew she didn't feel dead like the people I'd bumped into in the crowd. “Not dead, that's good enough for me.”
       “She didn't follow you onto the bridge, did she?'
       “No, I don't think she could.”
       The fox lady said something in Japanese. It sounded almost like swearing. “Slow down a little bit!”
       “I have to deliver this before the enchantment wears off.”
       “I know, but you need to give me a lift back to town.”
       As I reached the car, she was still several feet behind. I clicked the doors open, including the passenger side. “Door's open.”
       I raced around and just got the car in gear as the woman dropped awkwardly into the seat next to me. The acceleration of the car pulled her door shut. She pulled at her tail, more unhappy Japanese again.
       “Sorry, I hope we missed the bone.” I apologised as the front wheels grabbed the ancient tiles and we lurched forward again.
       “No damage.” She peeled her left glove off and grabbed my hand on the gearshift with hers. She was still struggling to get settled around her white bushy tail with its shock of reddish blond on the tip..
       He hand bounded mine around, there was a grinding noise. I struggled to get the right gear. We shot down the hillside, skidding a bit and becoming airborne for a few feet on the steeper parts of the hill. She squealed, neither of us were belted in. She would not let go of my hand.
       “If we get into the house before the spell is gone, hug one of the kids.”
       “What happens if we don't?”
       “Tough to explain.”
       We arrived at the house. Everything was dark and quiet. I jumped out of the car. Fox woman clambered out right behind me, not letting go of my hand the whole time. I had to pull her up to her feet, she weighed next to nothing. We raced up the stairs together and into the kitchen. Every bit of furniture on the lower floor but the futons was pile against the door.
       “Nooo!” the Fox lady shouted, “The cellar doors, outside.” She seemed to have forgotten about kid hugging.
       She yanked my arm pulling me back out the door and around the side of the house. She kicked the lock on the door handles and ripped them from the doors.
       More unhappy Japanese noises.
       I balled up my fist and aimed for a mossy looking board. I punched through it and pulled the door open. We tumbled down inside together. Pinkish red light filled the basement. It was nearly sunset again. I heard the spirits hissing around us, not at me but at the Foxy woman, this I judged because all of the comments were in Japanese.
       “Don't let go of me, no matter what!”
       “Ok.” I changed my grip so our fingers were interlaced. I got it. I didn't want to end up a spirit.
       Big Smile girl stepped in front of us. “I thought you promised me a ride to the bridge.”
       “After the scroll, and some dinner, and then, may be, a nap.”
       “A nap, with me?” she smiled a wholly frightening tooth filled smile.
       “No, he's not yours.” Fox woman shouted at her. “He's never yours.”
       “We'll see, we'll see. His car only seats two, and he'll keep his promise, I can tell. He will.” Big Smile Woman licked her lips with an impossibly long tongue. Then spat out some high pitched whining Japanese aimed at the Fox woman.
       Fox Woman raised our hands to her mouth, and bit both our thumbs. I pulled my hand away, she barely keeping hold of me. “Don't let go! You promised not to let go!”
       “Before you bit me!” I sucked on the bite, tasting my blood and hers. Her blood was hot, very hot, and tasted quite unlike my own while still essentially blood.
       More Japanese shouting between Fox woman and the Big Smile woman. I let my hand and its bleeding thumb be pulled away from me as I stepped up to the three old women at the tea table. I handed them the scroll. I wanted this to be over, I was hungry, thirsty and oddly, feeling horny.
       “We knew you would make it. No matter Erukai-san's reply, we are in your debt.”
       “You might want to take her out of here before we read this.” The oldest said.
       “Is it dangerous to us.”
       “I doubt it, but if the answer is not what all the spirits here want, it could get ugly.”
       “I've seen it through this far.” I pulled Fox woman in close.
       Wrapping both our arms around her in a sort of dance turn. “Get ready to run.” I whispered in her fox-like ear.
       The bloodied thumbs came into view of the old women, one of them pointed, and they all laughed. “Well now, you're going to have an interesting life, no matter what happens here.” She reached up and pinched my cheek.
       The oldest opened up the scroll and read it aloud, in Japanese. There was a commotion and the spirits began to fade one by one until only the oldest woman the Big Smile Woman were left.
       “This was my home, I'm not ready to leave it yet, and there's a new family to get settled in. I'll go when everything is peaceful again.”
       “You owe me a ride to the bridge.” Big Smile woman glared at Fox woman.
       Fox woman in answer, pulled her lips to my thumb and kissed me, tasting my blood.
       I felt a warmness and a tingle go through me. This was also some sort of enchantment, I could tell. I don't know when the other one had faded, sometime during the tumble into the celler, I guessed.
       I wasn't sure what my new 'state' was, but I could feel that it wasn't completely normal. I was hungry but no longer really tired.
       “We need to get some supper.”
       “I'll be waiting for you, in your car.” Big Smile woman turned to exit up the stairs, hunching over to blow me a kiss. Her robe fell open to reveal he small but nearly perfect breasts.
       Fox woman huffed, and blocked my view by pulling herself up to my mouth for a kiss; the kiss tasted of her incredible sweetness, tinged with hers and my blood. It seemed just the perfect nightcap for the preceding weirdness.
       Big Smile woman laughed all the way up the stairs and out to my car.
       “You are not going any where alone with that monster she'll eat you the moment you stop paying attention to her.”