clevermanka (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clevermanka) wrote2007-03-02 09:16 am
clevermanka) wrote2007-03-02 09:16 am
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A moveable house
I get to do a bit of performance art in a professor's class this morning.
Last night I dreamed:
A friend and I were in a little house in a forest. It was a white house, a southern-style bungalow with a porch. The house floated on a river and travelled in time and sometimes space. When it travelled only in time it stayed on the edge of the woods. When it did both, it floated above the river. The river below was very muddy and churning when we travelled above it.
We lived like wise women on the edge of town. When people needed help, the house (and we) were there. At other times it (and we) disappeared for years at a time. I don't know that we were aware of the time passing. I think we were not aware of the passage of time, but knew that it was. We ourselves didn't age.
We knew the people in the town. When they came for help, they sometimes appeared as they were currently or as we knew them last. One person I remember was a child--I'm not sure of the sex--who came to the house on crutches. S/He had some sort of disease that was crippling him/her. S/He looked about eight years old. I asked "How old are you now?" "Thirty-two." I don't know if I was able to help the person or not.
We don't (I think) realize that the house moved through space until it did it. I think something terrible happened to the world because we never saw any more people after that. Nothing was torn up, just no people.
There was a fascinating dread in my mind about what would happen to me if I was outside the house when it moved? Because it would stay in one spot sometimes for days, sometimes only for a few minutes. Nobody but the two of us were ever in the house when it moved.
We stopped once near a house with three cats in it (still no other people anywhere). I wanted to get the cats, so I left our house and picked out the middle cat, a bluish, long-haired one with a big head. When she didn't act very nice, I went to put her back. As I was returning, the house started to leave. I screamed for my friend and grabbed onto a windowsill.
Then I woke up.
Last night I dreamed:
A friend and I were in a little house in a forest. It was a white house, a southern-style bungalow with a porch. The house floated on a river and travelled in time and sometimes space. When it travelled only in time it stayed on the edge of the woods. When it did both, it floated above the river. The river below was very muddy and churning when we travelled above it.
We lived like wise women on the edge of town. When people needed help, the house (and we) were there. At other times it (and we) disappeared for years at a time. I don't know that we were aware of the time passing. I think we were not aware of the passage of time, but knew that it was. We ourselves didn't age.
We knew the people in the town. When they came for help, they sometimes appeared as they were currently or as we knew them last. One person I remember was a child--I'm not sure of the sex--who came to the house on crutches. S/He had some sort of disease that was crippling him/her. S/He looked about eight years old. I asked "How old are you now?" "Thirty-two." I don't know if I was able to help the person or not.
We don't (I think) realize that the house moved through space until it did it. I think something terrible happened to the world because we never saw any more people after that. Nothing was torn up, just no people.
There was a fascinating dread in my mind about what would happen to me if I was outside the house when it moved? Because it would stay in one spot sometimes for days, sometimes only for a few minutes. Nobody but the two of us were ever in the house when it moved.
We stopped once near a house with three cats in it (still no other people anywhere). I wanted to get the cats, so I left our house and picked out the middle cat, a bluish, long-haired one with a big head. When she didn't act very nice, I went to put her back. As I was returning, the house started to leave. I screamed for my friend and grabbed onto a windowsill.
Then I woke up.
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And cool dream. I dream sometimes about being able to pack everything we own into a single car, but I don't think I've ever had one where I take the whole house. :)
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Nothing nearly that exciting. I get to barge into the classroom, glare at everyone and go "SSSHHHHH!" I'm supposed to be a librarian in a poem in a play by (I think) Stoppard.
I wish I'd worn a skirt and my glasses.
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And you didn't tip either. I'm still pissed.
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And.... yeah. That's all I've got today.
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