Wiccan Whirlpool

Let me just start by saying this: when I dream it’s a fantastical experience.  Some people only remember vague impressions from their dreams.  Some people see disconnected images.  Some only see things in black and white.  My dreams are a cinematic showcase of sight, smell, sound, and sensation.  The color is clear, everything is realistic.  It’s as though I’m transported into another world to live another set of experiences.  My body tends to react this way to what goes on in my head as well.  I can awake with my heart racing, sweating, laughing, crying, furrowing my brow, and even talking.

So, on to last night’s bizarreness.

As I became aware of my surroundings I found myself walking through part of a new shopping plaza that is getting ready to open near my home.  I had just dropped my son off at daycare.  I was on the hunt for a gift to give my husband for Yule.  There weren’t too many people around as I entered a high-end men’s clothing store.  I could smell the new clothes that were hanging on the racks that were crowded all around the store.  The carpet was green and the walls were tiled in oak, and there were crystal chandeliers with dim yellow lights hanging from the ceiling.  The tall, thin, dark-haired man standing behind the wrap stand was telling customers close to him that there was a “free gift” with every purchase, which was a small toiletry kit that contained a bright red shaver.  I was looking at the khaki slacks hanging on the wall and trying to find the right size when I noticed the price tag.  While I have no recall of the exact price I suddenly realized that there was no way I would be able to afford anything there and I left the store.  As I was leaving a man was looking at the red shaver and runing it down a square length of wood that was set up for display in the middle of the store.

I left the shopping plaza to go to work, which was at my former high school as a helper in the library.  The whole building was crowded with people, and as I was walking I met a fellow bank employee who works in another branch.  Her role here was as librarian.  This is someone who is my peer but whom I consider less competent than myself, so it seemed odd to find that she was now my boss.  She helped me find the computer terminal I needed to begin my work.  Later that evening I had spent so much time working at this terminal that I somehow fell asleep and when I awoke I was looking out of the screen–from inside the computer.  This woman came over to shut off the computer, looked around the stacks of the library, didn’t see me, and left the computer running.  After she walked away I crawled out from under the desk and headed for the checkout desk.  Someone asked why I got to leave already and her reply was to lay off, because she has two small kids and she needs the time.  I told her thanks and headed toward the parking lot.

It was very dark outside when I was leaving.  Because it had been so crowded I had to park on the street, and as I was walking alone to my car I saw a man standing right by my car.  I tried to hit the panic button to scare him off but it wouldn’t work.  It’s difficult to describe him because he wasn’t clear, even though my impression of him was.  He wasn’t too tall but he seemed lanky, he was probably slouching.  His eyes were blue and wild, his skin was pale, and his greyish-white hair was a mess.  He looked like Gandalf or Odin might look, and he was hopping around leering at me.  His voice had an awful, sickening hissy quality, and I knew he wanted to scare me.  Somehow I managed to get around him and lock the doors as he was playing at reaching for me.

There were several accidents on the roads of downtown Terre Haute (where I grew up) as I drove home in the rain.  At one intersection there were police, fire, and ambulances.  At another blocked intersection I got out of the car and heard shots fired.  No one could tell me what was happening, but people were screaming and some building was on fire.  I hid with some unknown people behind an old mattress that was leaning against a wall in an alley just off of the road.  I don’t remember leaving there but shortly I found myself at home.

Once I got home I knew I needed to go upstairs, so I did.  There was a song I needed to play on the trumpet which was up in the attic (I don’t play the trumpet or any other wind instrument).  I could hear the song in my head, but I couldn’t get the instrument to do more than squawk a bit, and laughably I was trying to mute this horrible noise with a piece of cardboard so the members of the audience in the front row outside my windows didn’t think it was too loud.  The trumpet was very cold, and it began to snow.  The windows were open, and the white sheers were billowing in with the cold breeze.  I rested for a minute in one of the windows on the side while looking up at the brown shingled, steeply inclined roof to the side of it.  Eventually my (big, beautiful, black, and now dead) cat Onyx came in through the window.  His fur was stark white and when I held him I noticed that he was covered in huge brown fleas that scurried away from my fingers where I touched his fur.  At this point it occurred to me that I was dreaming, because Onyx wasn’t white he was black.  I put him down and then I woke up.

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