Skulls & Stars.

April 20, 2011: A night of confusing dreaming ended up with a short, memorable bit. Through some tangled way, I found myself and a few friends wading through the half-flooded hallways of a junior high school (it was my school in the dream, though it wasn't familiar to me). There were water plants swaying around our legs and animals swimming or flying among us. It seemed normal, and we carried our books above water on our way to class.

In one large, opened room (gymnasium?), there was a giant cage, partially underwater like everything else. I peeked my head inside the opened door and saw a few dejected-looking orangutans. For some reason, I knew, or assumed, the apes in the enclosure wee caged because they were "crazy" and unstable. One, to my right, was obviously very old and seemed incredibly tired and worn down. His fur was gray and black and his eyes were drooped with sadness. To my right, I saw a smaller, younger-looking ape lying across a rope. Her face was also long and weary, and she had a small baby clutching to her underbelly. They both peered over at me with uninterested eyes. After seeing the baby, I wondered why she was able to keep him/ her if she was a lunatic. I shook my head and noticed a small, round, rock-like object float past me in the water. Through the moving surface, I saw a glint of red, and then a brown tamarin quickly darted after the stone. I shrugged my shoulders, left the cage, and returned on my way to class.

Then I went through the same scene again through the eyes of the tamarin, who was hanging about underwater inside the cage. I saw a pair of legs wade to the doorway, saw the blurry outlines of orangutans through the water above, and saw a muddy, skull-shaped stone pass me in the current. There were red-glowing rubies set in each eye socket, and I knew it was immensely valuable. I bounded after it, very at-home in the water. I swam past reeds, logs, legs, and walls. After a corner or two, I quickly caught up with the stone and snatched it up in my small monkey hand.

I kept swimming down a side hallway, which was darker and painted blue. The water was gone, though it felt like my body was still swimming. I chanced a few breaths out of exhaustion and was glad to find that I could inhale, though I kept holding my breath in. There was a window display of a hiker or animal to my left, the only illumination in the hall. A heavy wooden door across from the window was ajar, and I went in. Inside, there were more hallways and doors branched off, and people, busy in work, scurrying this way and that. I noticed a blue counter manned by a young archaeologist in flannel. I approached the counter and said, "I have the livelihood, sir." The man looked up at me, his brown eyes burning. He swept his long hair out of his face and asked to see it. I felt in my pocket for the skull and came out with a mug of hot, swirling tea. I could see ash in the tea; the skull had been burned or crushed into powder and added to the water. I set the mug down on the counter between us, and he non-chalantly thanked me, picked it up, and walked off.

I shook my head again, feeling very small, and turned to a little table set up next to the counter. Covered in a decorative fabric, it displayed a few dusty pamphlets, a small, opened pouch, and a dish full of tiny charms. Curious, I used my finger to tip the pouch toward me, and found that it was full of ash similar to the stuff in the tea. The charms were very old-looking in antiqued bronze and depicted small sets of constellations. On the pamphlets, I could also see illustrations of constellations. I soon realized the powder in the pouch was the ash of ancient, incinerated constellations. I dusted my hands off and left through the doorway.