Monday, May 30, 2011

Last Night's Dream

The tan interior was amazingly like a car's.  Smooth leather with wood trim and styling that was modern and clean.  But I found myself sitting in a seat that was single in width and the second in two seats, one behind the other, much like how it might be fashioned in a cockpit.  All I could see was the black cap of the pilot sitting in front of me.  I didn't recall feeling any discomfort, even though it seemed rather cramped in quarters and I have never been able to sustain being in a small confined space without an emerging feeling of nausea creeping over me quickly and completely.  And yet, sitting in that cockpit was quite comfortable and I felt calm.

Take off was easy and uncomplicated, despite all the trees surrounding us, and when we broke the tree line, I gasped at the glorious view.  Vivid bright blue sky engulfed us, for the front of the cockpit was made entirely of clear glass that made it seem that the pilot sitting ahead of me was floating.  The clear glass stopped when it got to me, but afforded enough of an unhindered panoramic view.  And then I noticed that there was no sound.  The loud droning of a commercial airliner was completely absent, and there was utter, absolute silence.  There was no speaking between me and the pilot, and we enjoyed a ride full of loop de loops, dips and turns.  The plane was agile and quick, and I laughed uninhibitedly and with full delight.  Crazily enough, I recall getting my iPhone out to make sure I took pictures of everything.

Then the pilot dipped so closely to the ground I could see details of homes and expressions on people's faces.  On one property's lawn, the wreckage of another plane, a pale yellow antique like the kind that the Wright brothers would have flown.  "That plane went down yesterday," the still unknown and unnamed pilot said.   He landed the plane on the road and suddenly we were viewing the wreckage from across the street.  It was on fire, but the fire was almost invisible.  Pale orange and yellow flames that were noticeable only because of its flickering movement and visible heat emanating hotly from the wreckage.  Curiously, the wreckage wasn't charring.  It was a pale yellow and orange fire burning atop the pale yellow plane.  The fire burned into a clear and clean smoke that was faint and immediately evaporated as it rose into the beautiful blue sky.  "It's still on fire!" I exclaimed, "Do you see the fire?  It's barely visible!"  The pilot only said, "We have to go."

He taxied away, and as he turned right onto a busy road, I realized we were in a vehicle that was the cross between a Smart car and a Mini Cooper.  Then, using the road as a runway, we began to liftoff, much to the amazement of the others driving on the road.  Across the median, a small car going the opposite direction was so distracted it lost control and flipped over in a violent crash.  "We better go across the street to help them," the pilot said without emotion.   He skipped back down to the road and took the closest exit.

When we deplaned, news had quickly spread that the driver and passengers were able to climb out of the car and that everyone was okay.  I could see just barely above the heads that indeed, someone was unfolding their way out of the car unharmed and brushing off the debris.

And I found myself in a shopping bazaar.  Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  It was crowded, people were bustling and parting around me, and I noticed the closest store to me was an average shoe and purse store with its wares on display outside a door that was only about 3 feet tall.  I ducked and entered and it opened up into an entirely banal, unextraordinary store.  At quick scan, the merchandise was simply nothing special, and in fact, the styles seemed outdated, rom the 80s or 90s.  Then someone said they were having a massive sale, so as all frugal people do, I started to look more carefully.  And before my very eyes were beautifully modern shoes on the shelf that still didn't display themselves noticeably - one had to look specifically at them to notice.  Amazingly, everything was in my size, and I delighted in trying them on.  A pair of boots with incredible detail and uniqueness in styling - the 2-inch heel was fashioned such that it extended from the sole of the ball of the foot and extended past the back of the foot.

And I heard my cousin Andy behind me say, "Have you been here this whole time?  I've been looking for you for 2 hours."  I turned around and saw that he was wearing the pilot's cap.  I continued to shop, only now my cousin Ken had joined us and he was helping me gather the sizes I needed.

Finally, the store was closing, and Andy said, "We really need to go."  I thought about the logistics and had no idea how all three of us were going to fit into the carplane, but I didn't have a single worry about it.

And then I awoke.  And for the first time in several weeks, I had slept completely through the night and had had a very cool dream to boot.

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