Games & the Red.

The dream started messily. I was wasting time in an oversize arcade with my high school boyfriend, throwing jokes over the red acrylic tabletops and winning stuffed prizes. We kept disappearing behind long, black curtains and getting lost in dark rooms burning with black light. As we made our way through the building, our hands held fast, I realized I didn't feel anything. The love that I so often channel in my dreams for him, that young, hapless love, was gone for the first time.

I kept with him, though, and we walked through a large, green set of metal doors. We found ourselves in a tall room, windowed floor to ceiling on one side and railed on the other side, separating the walkway from a series of cages and pools that were chattering with animals. A chimpanzee climbed her way up a palm tree, her body padded with a blue and yellow life jacket, and turned to smile at us. An oversize duckling waded through the water, mechanically turning when he reached the wall and swimming back again in a straight line.

About then, I realized the boyfriend and I were tied together, back-to-back, with a large, inflated ball filling the space between us. Confused, we stumbled over the railing and fell into the water. He never hit, disappeared somewhere along the way, but I was set free as soon as I hit the surface. My body arched with strength and I swept through the water, the ropes trailing behind before sinking down. I passed by the duckling and climbed up, finding my way into a cement-walled room. The floor was strewn with straw and bits of oats. Knowing this was where the animals were most often kept, I laid down on the floor, my arms spread wide, and closed my eyes. The grass and straw scratched at my cheek, but I stayed there, listening to a brown-haired woman talk off to the side.

I don't remember if I kept walking through the building or if the dream just shifted, but I ended up on the roof of my parents house. The house was actually a large tent made of silks, deep purple and white blowing theatrically in a gentle wind. Underneath my feet, the roof billowed and shifted, but I kept my footing and watched as people bustled around below. After a few minutes, I walked to the edge of the roof and peeled back the corner of the silk, where I could see a cloudy darkness stirring underneath. I lowered myself down, feet first, and let go.

A giant face flashed in front of me, black and sharp-chinned, making me feel a quick pang of recognition and affection, then I landed on the grass below. The people surrounding me were well dressed and walking about the tent, chatting casually and eating tiny finger food. That face still burned in my mind, and I set out in search of him. The grass felt good under my bare feet as I walked in circles, scanning the faces of the crowd. I saw a man standing where I originally fell, his scarlet shirt blazing in the sea of grey jackets, and made my way forward. He turned his head before I reached him, his dark face already smiling. My hand found his waist and settled on his hip bone; our bodies came together like magnets, instant and natural, inevitable.

I only remember a spell of things after that: him speaking lyrically about magic fishing nets in rivers heavy with melted snow in late summer; Peregrin Took; the taste of my teeth and the half moon of my hip. Every time I looked up into his face, the left side of his mouth would pull up in a wry smile. The red of his shirt seemed to bind us together. I was back.

Bears & Air.

I was walking home through a dusty field (which was the East side of Fairview, though not so in my dream). Ahead and to the right, the dirt sloped down and met my and Gabriel's home, a little den half-dug into the ground. An arc of twigs and straw gave the den a rounded roof. As I walked along the trail, I saw massive bear prints in the dirt, overshadowing a smaller set of child-like footprints, and a snaky line alongside, as if a young boy had been dragging a stick along on his walk. Both prints were headed in the opposite direction. I remembered the talk of bear attacks in our village, and noticed a few towns-women were walking some distance behind me, whispering in fear and clutching at their brown, baggy cloaks.

I followed the path, not leaving any footprints of my own despite walking very deliberately and sure-footedly in a pair of heavy hiking boots, and was soon able to see into the entrance of my den. Curled inside and pulsing uncomfortably was a giant grizzly bear. Only her great, rounded back was visible; she was rooting around in the ground, searching for something or trying to make herself comfortable, I don't know. Her movements suggested real angry physical agitation, and her fur was spiked along the edges, as if she had just gone for a swim. I saw traces of her face as she thrashed around, her yellow teeth catching the glare of an imperceptible sun.

Over my shoulder, I tried to hiss a warning to the women behind me, but as soon as I took breath, the bear lifted her head gave a feral roar. Tripping over herself, she barreled out of the den and up the hill towards us. I ran swiftly back the way I had come, conscious of a thankfulness that Gabriel was not at home in the den or with me then. As usual in my dreams, I ran so quickly that my feet began to catch on the air; I was floating. Using a great and uncontrolled strength, I ran nearly upwards as if up an invisible flight of stairs. Behind me, the grizzly snarled and reared, but was left on solid ground, too heavy and angry to follow me.

I made my way to a set of tall swings, where I immediately found my footing on the long, metal bar spanning the top. The bear grabbed hold of the bars and wiggled her way up, and continued following me with the bar beneath her belly and legs. I looked around, remembering a fence that nearly reached the roof of one of the old school houses. I made my way in that direction, but realized she would have too easy a time following me. Doubling back, I practically swam through the air over her head. Roaring furiously, she slipped off the bar and landed on her side in the gravel. Her fall seemed to give her greater strength, and she began jumping up, her mouth snapping near my feet.

We passed by a large structure, a roofed area with an open bottom like a picnic bunk. The roof was rounded and thatched with thin sticks, like the one covering the den. Veering to the right, I caught my side sharply on the edge of the roof and climbed up. The bear quickly circled the space and began shinnying her way up. Here, things got a little wonky as the structure turned into a sort of plastic play-place. I was still on the roof, but there was a new, bright blue enclosure around me, laced with rounded fish-eye windows and secret zip-up doorways. I stood erect, my feet planted shoulder-width apart and hands out, as if I was ready to spar. I felt prepared, but still felt a wild pang of fear when she lumbered through a slit in the wall. She stood on her hind legs, and when she threw her head back with another powerful bellow, she seemed to take up the entire room.

I tried to dive past her, under her outstretched arms, but made it half-way through the hole when she caught hold of my foot. I dangled there, upside-down and facing the dirt some fifteen feet below me, and was overcome with a the sensations of a thoughtless prey animal. I felt like a fish, limp and defeated. The bear didn't pull me back up to her, so I hung there for a few minutes, my eyes dilated and staring. I started to smell something acrid, burning, and a sureness came back to me from the feet onward. I gave a great heave and twisted my legs out of her grasp. My body kept heaving and glided through the air as if through a moving river.

Dream Music.

This is usually what I listen to when recounting dreams.