Dream Walking, Dream Talking.
Level of Lucidity: N/A Level of Cohesiveness:
Rating:
Lucid Intent? No
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I dreamt I was walking in the neighborhood I grew up in, in the grass behind the house across the street where another family and an old friend of my brother's used to live. In reality they had a high fort made of wood, with a trapdoor accessible only by ladder, but in my dream memory it was a several-story high tower with an enclosed incline you walked up that wound upward at right angles. There was a slide at the top, I knew, that led into one of the house's upper story windows, and I wanted to go there to use a computer.
As I was walking toward the tower's ramp I noticed a girl walking toward me from the opposite direction. I felt horribly lonely and wanted desperately to talk to her, but at the same time I didn't want to talk to anybody at all. I kept walking with my face downward. When our paths finally met I was just nearing the beginning of the ramp, and I looked up only just long enough to give her the briefest smile. She smiled back, but quickly disappeared from sight as I passed behind the wall at the base of the tower. I was simultaneously disappointed and relieved.
I walked up and up the ramp at a slow, even pace. I noticed bits of tread which had been added to the ramp to prevent people's slipping. I considered how strange and common it was for two people not to attempt at least to acknowledge each other when both were clearly alone, and walking on a day with such bleak weather. As I continued walking, I forgot.
When I reached the top of the wooden tower several minutes later I saw the beginning of the slide. It was one of those yellow plastic tubular slides you find at playgrounds, and, by my memory of it, should end inside the neighbor's house. In my dream I knew they still lived there, and would recognize me, and wouldn't care if I dropped in.
I went into the slide feet first, and quickly gathered speed. As I slid faster and faster static electricity started to build around me. I thought ruefully that I would shock myself very soundly when the slide let out. The slide had a few twists and turns, and was longer than I expected, and much, much faster than I remembered.
I grew scared as the hum of electricity around me grew strongly palpable, and I felt my hair floating in a writhing mass around my head. It felt dangerous. I thought I would be shocked severely if I were to touch anything. I could imagine the loud, immediate zap being followed by the sizzle of burnt flesh. I worried about the connections of the parts of the slide, whether there were inopportune metal bolts protruding that would quicken this static disaster inside of a miniature electrical storm.
Suddenly, I saw sunlight ahead. My feet, and then the rest of my body, were immersed in cool water. The immense pressure of the static electricity disippated immediately. As I stood up I stepped onto the grass. I was on the ground; the slide had apparently been altered. I saw the girl was waiting for me at the slide's end. She seemed to notice my general disorientation.
She asked me what I thought of the ride, and I told her that it surprised me; I had expected to be let out into the neighbor's house. She told me how it had been lengthened some years ago. I apologized for not stopping and talking with her earlier. She laughed and said that it was fine, as she knew that I would end up here eventually. We turned and continued walking in her previous direction.
I told her that I thought it was funny and sad, how two strangers who meet in even the most desperate moods and locations would avoid one another. She said that she noticed I walked with my head down, and I explained how I used to always step on and trip over things. My grandmother used always to tell me to watch where I put my feet. I can still hear her as she says this. Now I can't shake the habit. When I catch myself looking up, or forward, I feel guilty because I'm too afraid of stepping on bugs. That happened, once, in the most terrible way I can imagine.
She said that she noticed, and it reminded her of what her grandmother used to say: That there were two types of people, hot and cold. The hot looked up at the clouds and the sky, and the cold looked down at the rough and the ground. Both were necessary, as their attentions prevented running into obstacles each of the other couldn't see, and forced bad things toward a center, where they grew smaller.
It didn't make very much sense to me, but something about hearing it: the acceptance, the intention, or perhaps merely the communication with another human being, was comforting.
Her grandmother had died. She lived with strict Christian parents and was expected home soon. We walked past my old house and almost to the next cul-de-sac, and my dream ended, before I had to say goodbye.
Additional Comments:
The girl in my dream was young, but not overtly attractive.
