dreams of games and consequences

About dreams, from Holy Fools by Joanne Harris: “They are like waves, she told me, of the tides that bear us, from which strange jetsam may be gathered, strange eddies from the deeps for those to read who can. I must use my dreams, not fear them. Only a fool fears knowledge.”

So last night, my dreams jerked me from sleep, with the heart pounding fear only night terrors can bring. It was a clear, cool summer night. The stars and planets bright, touchable and whirling in in dizzying spirals. Trails and orbits changed into coppery streaks, the heavenly bodies garishly colored, geometric and mechanical. Party noises drifted down from an illuminated house on a hill above us, so brightly lit we could see the shapes of the people as they grew louder and wilder in their revelry. There was something demonic in the rhythm of their calls and shouts, as if they were in the midsts of some climactic ritual.

Then things changed from ceremony to frat-boy antics to murder. Young men were being herded and thrown from the large house, falling from ledge to precipice to slope to ground, some of them screaming as their bones broke against stone. A sickly neon glow outlined the edges of their descent, until finally we were all on the same level.

Night turned quickly into day and what was once woods and soft grass was now cement slabs, corridors and glass doors. Everything was squared. People were running, hiding while others were being toppled and run over by large, steel balls moving at a blinding rate of speed. I skirted the edges of the mayhem, trying to stay out of sight.

Finally, taking my chance, I ran for the glass doors, barely making it before hearing the loud clanging bells. Moving in that oppressive slow motion of nightmares, I grabbed the door and struggled to squeeze through to safety. Looking out, I saw that the door didn’t open to safety, but to a larger cement playing field. The world had turned into a vast pinball game and the balls were racking us up for points.
And the night before, I dreamt of a loved one’s betrayal at the hands of friends.

So, I’m drinking coffee before 6am and writing all this down, thinking that a change in nighttime eating habits may be in order. I’ll be paying close attention though…just in case.

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