- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1610
And while I'm missing the stabbing party downstairs I'm dreaming, completely out, and it took a while this morning to remember the dream. It came to me in bits and pieces...
I'm in a restaurant, Teatro's I think, but it's not it's someplace else, an old converted church. I'm catching up with an old girlfriend, Cheryl Howe, and I've brought along a bag of watches to show her, some are for her. It's late, but we haven't noticed the time. I've noticed the hostess, however, she's thin and blonde and tall, real tall, maybe 8 feet, but she's pleasant and that's how I know that it was a dream and not really Teatro's.....
So while I'm emptying my bag of watches to show to Cheryl I'm rediscovering some of them, there's this one, a gold case, moon-phase, westminster chime, the alarm bells ring a different tune every hour, I think I wore it there but never noticed it, then the eight foot hostess tells us they are closed, they've been for some while, they're only waiting for us to leave and gosh it's late so Cheryl leaves, I gather up my watches, I'll find her hotel later, show her the watches, but I'm lost in the neighborhood, my dream, and I wake up....
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1301
I'm at a fair with other journalists. We're taking turns interviewing Obama. It's my turn, we go into a small tent, there's a couple of security people present. Mostly we just talk about our similar backgrounds, how we got similar degrees, it's a personal chat, no talk of head-of-state or presidency, the unaddressed human rights violations. I've forgotten my camera to get pictures but it's unimportant, we're just catching up, Obama and me....
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1359
I'm driving along a narrow, windy road through the mountains. Cursing at going so slow when a car (trans am) in the oncoming lane pulls a U-Turn, I slow down, miss hitting him by inches and now I'm going slow behind him. Looking out the window, to the right beneath the cliff I spy bodies, people, men, women, covered in tarps, victims of previous road accidents, their corpses waiting until traffic relents before they can be picked up. They're covered in clothing, blankets, but still you can see legs and arms here or there, identify sex, nametags cut from newsprint identify the victims, I tell the passengers (? children?) in the car to look out the window so they can see, I have to drive slow to avoid running them over....
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1325
I'm at a rehearsal, the play is about to begin, behind the stage, the set, talking to the other actors. I'm entertaining them, they were worried about practicing their lines, I'm confident that I'll remember mine (I only have a bit role), so I take the opportunity to make wisecracks and jokes.
Where we are, behind the set, it's behind a pretend big stone mansion, if we go through the doors we'll be onstage, the audience in front of us, live. Everyone's busy getting ready. This dream is odd, the foreground too brightly lit, the edges are blurred, dark as if in the audience. I'm only looking at the back of the set. The other actors find me very entertaining. And it's odd as well because I've always done this, been an actor (I've never been an actor) , and I know the theater even, we're at the Citadel in Edmonton (we're not, I know when I wake up).
Finally it's my turn, I enter the stage through the set doors to deliver my Peter Pan/Shakespeare lines, there's a pause for a double beat and I realize the I've forgotten my lines, I improvise, the audience is fine with it and applauds loudly, the show must go on....
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1390
I'm in Edmonton. It's not the Edmonton I remember, not the Edmonton that's ever been, narrow streets lined with old sandstone buildings, green awnings over the pavement, grey and wet outside, warm and inviting shop windows, pedestrians. I've run into Nicole, haven't seen her for years, she's with a couple of friends, we're talking, catching up, when Steve walks by. He doesn't notice me, I haven't seen him for years either, he looks good, craggy features, well dressed, I recognize Steve but he looks more like Daniel Craig from the Bond films, he's going somewhere with an intent look on his face. I excuse myself from Nicole and her friends to pursue him. I'll find them later in a cafe, one of the old-school long and dimly lit diners, yellow lights & nicotine stained walls, vinyl booths, jukeboxes at every tables, chinese & western food... . .
I run down the street after Steve but he's disappeared. I cut through a high sandstone building that seems only to be there as a shortcut, a stairwell in, downstairs, high ceiling, another stairwell up and out at ninety degrees to the first. People inside talking about how the building is there to prevent road rage.....
Outside, still no Steve so I walk down the street, find my apartment, a walk up, too bright lighting inside, I'm on the top floor, walking up the stairs I go too far, come to a wall, turn around, go back down to the landing and enter my apartment. Through the kitchen to a bedroom, squalid, small, I've never been here before either. "She must still be at work" I think to myself as I fall asleep, I'll tell her about seeing Steve when I wake up, there's something very wrong with this, how could I live here? And I wake up and she's still not home and I realize she's not coming home, she's never lived here, how could I have forgotten. And I wake up again, strangely out of sorts, another odd dream....