About a month ago, I had a dream that I was watching my old roommate Pamma try to make her way somewhere by plane. It would have been a short enough trip, but for some reason, she kept getting rerouted and ended up flying all over the country. I saw a map with a travelling red line, Indiana Jones style, bouncing from Austin, Texas to Washington D.C, to New York and so on. And quite clearly, I saw that this would happen on July 27th. Which is today.
Today, I had another dream about watching someone I know travel. This time it was Cait, wandering the streets of a small town in France. With only a backpack, she walked winding streets, sat in outdoor cafés, reading a book, then leaving it at the table for someone else to find. There was no room to carry a book, no room for excess baggage. There was a sort of narrator, and I’m not sure if it was me or a male voice, narrating this in an overly dramatic tone, with sort of melancholy description. She was a traveler walking in a land without knowing the custom, etiquette or language, unable to connect and communicate fully. “Such is the life of a child of God in the kingdom of Earth,” the narrator said, and the camera moved overhead, lifting, until we saw the top of Cait’s head moving through a busy street, and then lost her amongst the people, losing the street in the labyrinthine paths of the town, until the camera turned suddenly upwards, breaking through the blue of the atmosphere and out into the stars.
That was one dream. Another was one in which I was absent, but there was something to do with a metal ball that if it was held in some way, a strange blade would jump out of it, into the hand that held it, kind of Phantasm-esque.
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