I had a disturbing dream last night. I had dreams pretty much all last night, likely thanks to the holiday dairy intake catching up to me, but one of them stuck with me longer than a few minutes after waking, which is unusual.
In the dream, I was in a three storey apartment, on my way up the stairs from the bottom to leave via the front door, which was located in the middle storey. As I reached the second storey, I ran into my grandfather, who was coming down from the top story intended to leave himself.
This was shocking, because my dreamself knew Granddad was dead. The realization that I was talking to him regardless caused a tightening in my chest that made it difficult to explain what was causing the tightening in my chest. He helped me downstairs to the living room, where I eventually calmed down enough to ask him how he got there.
He didn't know. Thinking about it, he couldn't remember much at all. I didn't want to tell him he wasn't alive, so I did what I could to try and revive his memories. It took awhile.
Eventually, he realized that he was dead. He lay on his back on the floor and curled up into a ball. I tried to comfort him, but he grew increasingly agitated by the idea that he was a ghost. He bounced up and down, off the ceiling and the floor a few times.
Then he transformed into a white sock.
***
In my e-mail this morning was a mail forwarded from my father, informing me that my Aunt Kate--granddad's older sister, which I guess would actually make her a great-aunt...?--had passed away.
This put me in a reflective mood that I've almost completely destroyed by watching the first half hour of the Mike Judge film Idiocracy.
A
In the dream, I was in a three storey apartment, on my way up the stairs from the bottom to leave via the front door, which was located in the middle storey. As I reached the second storey, I ran into my grandfather, who was coming down from the top story intended to leave himself.
This was shocking, because my dreamself knew Granddad was dead. The realization that I was talking to him regardless caused a tightening in my chest that made it difficult to explain what was causing the tightening in my chest. He helped me downstairs to the living room, where I eventually calmed down enough to ask him how he got there.
He didn't know. Thinking about it, he couldn't remember much at all. I didn't want to tell him he wasn't alive, so I did what I could to try and revive his memories. It took awhile.
Eventually, he realized that he was dead. He lay on his back on the floor and curled up into a ball. I tried to comfort him, but he grew increasingly agitated by the idea that he was a ghost. He bounced up and down, off the ceiling and the floor a few times.
Then he transformed into a white sock.
***
In my e-mail this morning was a mail forwarded from my father, informing me that my Aunt Kate--granddad's older sister, which I guess would actually make her a great-aunt...?--had passed away.
This put me in a reflective mood that I've almost completely destroyed by watching the first half hour of the Mike Judge film Idiocracy.
A
No comments:
Post a Comment