There was something on the TV guide
about a science fiction
film, and it was showing excerpts. Two hundred years ago alien
s froze human bodies. Then I was in a shoe shop
in a mall, and saw the aliens take shoes: a weird light beamed down and the shoe (a wrinkled bootee
) rose up, to the surprise of the member of the staff who had taken it out of the box. I thought it odd they were only taking odd shoes.
Then one of the staff was taken, and rose up jerking. There was no terror in it, just curiosity. The boss of the shoe shop came along and talked with his staff. They were joshing him about something, or where he had been last night.
The boss came over to us, to C and me, in a long room, where we discussed the previous night, where he and I had gone. He couldn't tell his staff because he had been dressed as Fanny Price from Mansfield Park, as indeed he was now; and I had been something similar.
He told C of who I had been snogging at this dinner or event: he knew they were a couple of people from my past, except that he didn't know their names. I had remembered some nice snogging at some time with someone but couldn't match them to his descriptions. One of them had had a small dog, called Hobo(?). I did regret not being able to remember this nice stuff. Apparently I had been fairly drunk. Well yes. C was tolerant of my foibles, which pleased me.
We now stood by the fireplace of the long room, and another couple joined us. There was a distinct amount of the old loin gratification reflex between C and me under our clothing, which it would have been nice to gratify in full. Some other people were talking about children nearby and making suggestive comments about holes.
I lay in bed, looking around at the familiar objects in the dull early-morning light. One thing struck me as odd, a cigarette
. (I don't smoke.) I wondered who could have left it there, and when. As I considered more, it became apparent that it was still smoulder
ing. Then it was still alight, half way through, and in danger of burning a jumper
I realized someone had just been there, and left it: to taunt me? In fear I leapt up and drew back the curtains.The window was wide open. I scanned the garden but there was no sign of anyone. I turned back to my room to see what else had been added, changed, taken, violated.
I lay in darkness
waiting to wake up. After that bad end to the dream I tried to work out what I would see if I opened my eyes, to test whether I was awake, because that other dream room had been nothing like my real room
. But I lay there unable to think where I lived, what my bedroom looked like, what stage of my life I was at. I had no idea.
Later (after genuine waking) there was something about the genealogy
of Robinson Crusoe