I have been feeling a little under the weather. Whether the cause is the stress of college applications or the actual weather, is yet unclear. The truth is probably somewhere in-between as most profound truths usually tend to be. You see, my city, which for the record I love very much, has three subtle climates – hot, hotter and hottest. Right now we are at hottest. (There is nothing romantic about the Indian summer as some song writs would have you believe.)
I startled myself out of a most elaborate dream this morning. So elaborate that the fiction writer in me is actually envious of the dreamer in me. You might suppose that the two are one and the same, or at least close companions, but in my case they are not. Ironically I can dream gore, but it just isn’t my genre of writing.
But I digress. Coming back to said dream, it unfolds as follows…
There is an open drain flowing beneath my house (I swear there is none, nor are there sheaths of dust that my subconscious mind could highlighting. I checked. Nor do I live with any politicians or bureaucrats, so need to drain the swamp.) Mum finds a tiny little snake there and comes up to me saying ‘We need to burn it. That’s the only option.’ (That right there is another major digression from realism. In reality my mum would have frozen of horror and then shrieked loud enough to hit the snake’s hearing frequency and thereby destroyed it of internal bleeding caused by ruptured eardrums, or some such.)
So we wrap cloth around a stick, wrap the little snake around the cloth, douse it with fuel, and set it on fire. (All animal rights activists I assure you this is a dream and only a dream and I have absolutely no plans of acting upon it ever.) However instead of the cloth catching fire something very strange begins to happen. The little snake starts swelling at an astounding rate, blobs form, appendages grow, and from that strange grotesque lump emerges a man. He gets up, happily shakes himself off, saunters over to the sofa where he proceeds to perch. My first reaction is to scream out to my son to run into his room and lock himself (Ah, a mother’s instincts. There is no suppressing them even in dreamscape.)
‘What do you want?’ I ask the snake man.
And at this very cliff-hanger moment my alarm started ringing.
Phew, saved by the bell!
Superstitious I am not, but I’ll admit the dream freaked me out. My first instinct was to start muttering all the prayers I knew, seeking the Almighty’s protection, seeking protection against the jinn. I mean, what else could he be?
Once I had calmed down, the next step was obviously to analyse the dream. Miss Freud much! What did the dream represent? Am I about to do something that is likely to become a bigger problem for me? Does he represent someone who could possibly do me harm? Was he good looking, I mean was he someone I was crushing on and this was a divine intervention warning me to keep it in my lady pants?
After considerable introspection I have come to only one conclusion – gouging down a heavy snack before going to bed is probably not a very good idea!
Written for The Stream of Consciousness Saturday’s prompt whether/weather.