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Dim ond breuddwyd ges amdanat - nhpeacenik
Dim ond breuddwyd ges amdanat
Last night I had an extended dream of going to the seashore with Denise. We arrived at a place where a high pine-covered bluff rose above a low sandy island. Denise was driving and she asked which way to turn. I knew there were two ways to get to the town, one that crossed a bridge and followed the shore of the island and another that followed the ridge. I started to explain the choice, but sensed the rise of anger in her and arbitrarily said "left". After we turned left, the road became twisty and she criticized my choice and implied it would have been better to take the other fork, but it was too late, so we drove on mostly in silence. The feeling in the dream was all too realistic in its emotional content.

We arrived at the town, where there was evidence of a great carnival that had just ended. There was an ice-cream stand with empty cartons, an abandoned french-fries truck, confetti on the street. Everywhere there were posters about the big dance that was happening in the evening. I found myself regretting having missed the carnival, but we agreed we'd come back into town for one of the events in the evening. There were several concerts and the dance, which had an exotic theme (Thai, I think). I tended to want to go to one of the concerts rather than the dance.

Driving down to the shore, our car was stuck in a traffic jam by an inlet. I told Denise that I would like to go back to the house of that famous author (whose name I knew in the dream but can't recall now) which was being allowed to slowly wash into the sea, and to look out the widows of the house to the sea. I had been to that house long ago and wanted to see how it had decayed. Denise pointed out that the ferry to the island where the house was located ran every two hours, so that it would be a long trip, and went on to say that I always wanted to do the hardest possible thing just because I had fond memories of the past, and never wanted to do the easy but novel thing. Her observation seemed true, and I was on the point of agreeing that we should just watch the sea a while and then go back to town, when I noticed what Denise was wearing: it was a strapless peach-colored satin gown that I had never seen before, very uncharacteristic of her. I knew at once that she wanted intensely to go to the dance. And I knew that making her happy would override any plans I had made.

Suddenly, in the inlet, a large black shape surface. Was it a whale? The black thing did a flip, and our eyes strained to see flukes, tail, eye... but as it came upright again we saw it was a shiny black sports car driving in the shallow water.

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From: sonoran_scrawl Date: February 24th, 2009 02:27 pm (UTC) (Link)
What a trippy dream. I love dreams. I love how they tell a story. Sometimes they are hard to verbalize tho and you do it so well here.
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