Gianna, of course, is now blabbering about a world where dreams dictate the way your day will go, and keeps showing me an image of dream manipulators waking up in a stone castle.
I had to swap rooms last night, but didn’t take my alarm clock. I woke up at 8, completely missing Cat, who I chat with at various times between 6 and 8, and my mom had a doctor’s appointment at 8 I was supposed to wake her up at 7 for. Arg.
Then my alarm sounded. 6 o’clock, as usual. If only all horrid mess-ups ended that way.
Every now and then I have an incredibly realistic dream. Sometimes I go through half the day before I realize it was a dream. Once, when I was really little, I dreamed I’d gotten a new statue horse to play with. That, at least, was a fun dream: the statue horse was very pretty.
But the worst of these came one day when I was 7. Momma was at the hospital with a broken ankle and Daddy had to go to work, so every day he woke me and my sister up early and took us to a friend’s house before driving to work. He would pick us up on his way home. I’d just dreamed we’d gone to bed, the shema still in my ears. Then I was shook awake by Daddy. Early in the morning. I felt like I hadn’t slept a moment. That was one sluggish day.
I try to wake up at 6 o’clock. I don’t always make it. And if I forget I’m supposed to get up, I’ll go back to sleep. This morning I think I barely woke up at 6ish and thought about the woman’s suffrage movement’s downsides. Because the first part of my dream has no images in my memory to match, I’m not sure if I thought this up in a hazy half-awake state or not.
I traveled back and time and stopped America’s woman’s suffrage movement. How did I do that? I don’t remember. The images
When I came back to the future, World War I and World War II had never happened, and the world was an 1800s steampunk alternate universe. I say “1800s” because that was the impression I got from the garb and technology levels. I looked it up, and the women’s bonnets I dreamed are circa 1790-1815. The men’s suits were also regency area. That’s the closest dating I can do, not that you can expect my subconscious to know her history. After all, she thinks stopping the woman’s suffrage movement would prevent the world wars.
(Source: http://diaryofaseamstress.blogspot.com/2011/10/cordelia-silk-bonnet.html This thing’s a cordelia bonnet.)
I thought it was a time freeze - it isn’t uncommon for me to know I am dreaming - until I needed to travel somewhere for some reason, but I’m getting ahead of myself. I was in a sort of hotel with companions I have no memory of, but everything - walls, furniture, clothing - was dark. Blacks and blues and deep browns. Outside the sky was dark and clouded, like a Tron sky, so the only real light inside came from a single lamp. Another group of adults, all related, were in the same hotel and we talked some.
But we both had other places to go. My mind got a quick snap of a map. We were literally headed for opposite sides of the nation. I and my companions were traveling to the southwest coast and they were going back east. We said our ‘goodbyes’ and and walked out to our train, strangely sitting just outside the hotel. Then the other group, the ones going in the opposite direction we were, entered our same car.
Until now the dream had been from first person view: I was watching through eyes. Now I cut to a third person view, like a movie camera, and I could see our train. A dark black steam train going in circles in the middle of a gray-snowy field.
I returned to the first person POV and somehow understood you could get on and off this train anywhere you wanted, which at least explained its random appearance in front of a hotel. Then I woke up. I have no idea where I was going or with whom. I hope I wasn’t going back to fix the timeline. Forget jet packs, I want that train.
Common sense says:
My muse says: