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sporadic creepiness

January 22, 2011

Blame it on the snow (which forced me to wake up at 5:30 am to fetch my car from the parking garage before it would be ticketed), but I don’t remember much about my dreams last night. What I do remember is eerie.

1. A rocky shoreline (think Shutter Island) with a cave. I’m below the cave and crawling up to it. When I get there, my friends Rob and Pam are getting married again inside, but I feel that something is very wrong. I go up to each guest and say, “It really smells like blood in here,” but whenever I speak, nobody can understand what I’m saying. The air is thick with the iron scent of blood, and the cave is lit by firelight. I got a Scar’s lair vibe (Uncle Scar, that is).

2. A pink bedroom with purple curtains. Lyndsay is telling me all about her mother and all her troubles. She get’s angry, and I’m obviously confused and awkward. Then, Lyndsay hatches what she describes as a “fail-proof plan”: she’ll distract her mother and lead her into that industrial-sized refrigerator¬† that has just materialized in the corner of the room, and when she does, I’ll shut the door. She’ll start to suffocate, learn her lesson, and we’ll let her go free. I can’t really get behind the idea, but I don’t do anything to stop it, so that when Lyndsay’s mom comes in, Lyndsay leads her to the refrigerator and I shut the door. But, after hearing one yelp I open it back up. Her mom leaps out and hugs me tightly, thanking me for saving her life. I feel incredibly, horribly guilty, because she doesn’t know I was in on it the whole time. All Lyndsay can do is glare.

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