Time was askew and this manifested in the way I viewed things.
Things moved too slowly. I moved faster than the flow of the world.
Intermittent whiteouts/color bursts of vision only to return and have missed a few scenes.
I was caring for a young boy of about ten. There were no words exchanged.
He looked sallow, yellowish skin from poor nutrition.
Deep set, big dark saucer eyes.
It was an informal, novel arrangement for the short term.
He asked me there for the night?
His mother. His mother was aweful and possibly maleficent.
He lived in a trailer home, that connected to others like an aluminum apartment complex.
My cat kept plying at doors, as always.
The door to the connecting abode. She kept opening it and running inside.
I kept sneaking inside to retrieve her. Worried I’d get the boy in trouble with his neighbors.
I finally met the daughter girl of the neighbors. She was about 20 years old. Beautiful.
Suddenly, I’m her age too.
We attend school. We are friends, but it is hard and dangerous to have friends in this place, so we are very quiet.
Her home is immaculate and in the Thai decorative style.
Her mother wears very traditional almost ceremonial garb.
The mother watches me and her daughter but says nothing to me.
Never formally acknowledging me, but I feel comforted by this. Welcomed nonetheless.
The mother talks in mutters to her husband in a language, presumeably Thai, that I do not understand.
Those are the only words.
Me and the daughter never speak.
We draw geometric figures on the hardwood floor with chalk.
I notice a discoloration that is dried urine on the floor.
I worry my cat did this.
She writes, “my brother.”
I never meet him.
It stays grey outside, but now it is darker.
I return to the boy.
He and I take off running into the night.
Frenetic, nervous. Running. Like animals nervous before a storm.
We run for hours through meadows in dim moonlight.
Sparse trees here and there.
Everything is an aqua teal green.
You can feel a building electricity.
Like the accumulation of major internal static charges.
The boy stops. Freezes.
I’m running so hard I almost do not notice.
I stop, turn heel, and tear ass to be at his side again.
I make it to his immediate proximity.
The earth tremors. Isolated to the area immediately in front of us.
The earth tears open like a ripple over water.
A slight scar forming.
It is his mother.
Aweful. Pure force and energy. Intuited.
The boy is now catatonic, stood upright behind me.
There is a surge of fear followed by the security of knowing exactly what you are supposed to do.
Even if you have no idea how to do it.
Just do not let the boy touch anything.
The mom comes up from the ground in colors and consistency the like of a nebula and the root structure of an old tree. Explosions in the air like fireworks.
I just watch. The task is easy, if you do not panic.
It may snow today.
One thought on “Hard to describe dream”
writtencasey. how deft! adoring, particularly, ‘mother talks in mutters’ – ace! nickreeves.
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