Dream Time - SuperJer Forum

NatureJay
SJA: Commander of Ruthless Abuse

2005 Mar 22 • 1871
574 ₧

My friends, I have had a second dream!

Actually, this one is a little hazy as it happened yesterday morning and I didn't write it down immediately. Sucks for us all.

My dream was that I was in a small town, with its own university, that via some unidentified voodoo was being possessed by the old NES Super Mario Bros. game. How I came to this conclusion is difficult to say as almost nothing I saw had any identifiable connection to the legendary world of the Italian plumber. I did not see a single koopa or goomba the entire time, nor anything of that ilk. What I do remember is realizing the change as it came upon the town. I was walking along the road on top of a hill when I felt a blast of air in a wave, hitting me in the back. I turned around to see where it had came from, if anything, and saw nothing, but when I turned again, I saw that all the houses in the row had been replaced by black and white battlements carved out of marble, roughly the same size as one would expect the miniature castles at the end of each ordinary world to be, except aside from two stories, they were entirely of a different architecture. A repeating motif were flanges jutting out in waves from the roof, similar to what one would find on the tip of a venus flytrap, though much thicker. They would radiate outward from the columns as well, and in each garden there would usually be a pedestal, with one of these resting on top similar to a lily pad, and each flanged pad would contain a stone orb, roughly the size of a soccer ball if not slightly bigger. The houses would alternate, white and black all down the row, to the end of the hill, which curved around before setting into a marsh near the bay. No light or signs of life emitted from any of these houses, though there was obviously something unearthly about them, and faintly cold. Ivies would sometimes crawl and drape around the porticoes, but the houses themselves showed signs of neither use nor disuse, they merely were.

I passed a few of these, perhaps three or four, before I walked into one of them. In front of me was a dark staircase ascending, again, neither used nor disused, but merely there. I turned to my left into a small parlor with a grand piano, that opened up into a dining room at the far end. A dim chandelier hung idly from the ceiling. Near the piano, there was a table with a small clay dish that held a glowing orb. I touched this orb and a cloud of mist released, and as it spread around the room of its own mind, the world slowly dispersed and I was in reality again.

I decided to informer my employers about this, seeing as how I was some sort of amateur paranormalist or some such thing. My employers, in this case, were actually my real employers, the editor-in-chief for the magazine I work for and the editor of another magazine whom I also know. I met them in an abandoned building that resembled an office in design and a parking garage in aesthetics, for there was no electricity or windows, all was concrete, and the stains of water dripped down the sides. I spoke with them and they seemed intrigued by my findings, not surprised, but as though something added up in a certain way that had not yet been revealed to me. They encouraged me to continue my investigation. I looked out across the courtyard and saw a girl with long blond hair, dressed in blue, roughly twenty, not especially pretty but not unattractive either, smile at me and then enter a small shack that served no purpose I could tell. I was led away by the editor of the other magazine (quite the genial fellow, not the best listener) and we exited the building and crossed to the shack on the other side of the yard. He opened the door and allowed me to pass through, smiling and reminding me it was haunted, legends from some twenty years ago.

Inside, it was larger than it seemed. To my right was a stone staircase ascending upward into the darkness, improbable, as the shack was connected to nothing on that side. A young man in a khaki jacket and a backwards hat, with backpack, shoulder length greasy black hair and the stubble of a beard, nodded to me nervously, and then disappeared up the stairs. I looked ahead and saw another flight of stairs leading downward. As I reached the bottom, a stone panel slid shut behind me and ahead of me, as though revealing a grand prize in a game show, another panel slid open to a lighted room. I immediately realized that I had been transported twenty years into the past and was now stuck there.

The room was a small library with wooden cabinetry, dense, but by no means overwhelming or foreboding in its collection, for indeed the room was of a very ordinary size. At the wooden desk, there was a secretary, a woman of about twenty (much more attractive) with purple hair cut into a sort of asymmetrical bob, tanned and with light green eyes, she looked up at me from her task and then resumed writing. I continued inward and found another woman, middle aged, with dark eyes, glasses, and dirty blond hair shuffling through papers. As she did so, without a moments loss of concentration, gathered a large portion of her hair with her left hand and then produced a pair of scissors with her right and cut the handful off and then flipped another page. I peered around the corner into an adjoining room. and saw other people, a bald man in a white dress shirt, scanning books on a shelf. Behind him was another table, where people were studying documents, but behind the table, instead of a wall, there was a chainlink fence. The room was very bright, lit by an unseen source, but beyond the fence, darkness and darkness only.

I turned around to face the left side of the main room, which I had left unexamined on entering, and saw another stone panel slide away. The blond girl whom I had seen earlier leaned out, smiling secretly and holding a finger to pursed lips making a "sshhh" noise. She waved me through and I followed her out into daylight, and we got into a car (which I don't remember in the slightest. We drove out on a road, through lush green scenery, which did not obstruct the light in any way. On the sides of the road were clay slopes, not hills quite but more like oversized speed bumps which wound along the path with the road. Eventually, the road opened up to a park at the beach, with many picnickers in white, sandy volleyball courts, and kite flying beyond the trees. She led me to a drainage hole, looked down on it, smiled, and then looked up at me. There was a metal grate covering what appeared to have been a hole of some sorts, but it and all sides around it were filled with wet sand and dirt. I found a stick of gray driftwood, about the size of a walking cane, and struck the dirt between the grating, and the silt drained away like some grand plug had been pulled underneath it and now it could seep freely like water. I suspected in reality it was a warp pipe.

Then I heard my suitemates talking in the lounge and I woke up.

100% natural, no antibiotics, and ~~blood~~grass-fed

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2009 Oct 6 at 12:05 PDT