(Low, slight fever, headache, cough. Frequent naps, bizarre dreams)
That I'm going to with S** to a party, customers from the restaurant whom I don't know. Cutting up streets, nighttime, through yards, it would appear we're in Edmonton, near the University. A big house, the party's in the basement.
And we go downstairs and everyone is gathered in a bedroom on a bed watching TV. I don't know anyone, but they all seem familiar.
The light, basement light, brightly lit in the halls, in the bedrooms, and I'm looking for S**, only I can't seem to find her, this basement is huge, made up of bedrooms, walking from bedroom to bedroom, excusing myself, going into the hall and looking for her again...
I think I spot her, then I recognize it's not her, it's a customer from the restaurant, an older, hippy lady, only now she's much younger...
I find her, and we're off, looking for a bedroom together....
S**, she looks the same as she did when I first met her, lithe, taut, she's arching her neck while I'm kissing her, I'm pulling off her tights...
Somebody walks past, older fellow, says he wouldn't mind giving me a hand with that, I look at him - he excuses himself, S** and I find a bed behind a transparent gauze curtain, we're continuing to make out, I'm pushing her into the bathroom so we can't be seen, she's in bliss and I can feel her clenching my fingers, she's dry, pulling them inside her....
***
(Wake up. Weird ass dream. I've not thought of S** for almost 30 years, sex dreams, rarely, why her, and odd that I should have such a detailed dream, and the tactile experience is unusual, the places, never what your recognize...)
***
Again, I'm in Edmonton not Edmonton, a sunny fall day. I've somehow worked myself into a store on the West side of town, it's a market styled shop, filled with 3rd world bric-a-brac, there's a young East Indian kid that's shown me in, I'm looking, they have watches, cheap, gold plated, but curiosities, one that has an I-Ching function, another with peculiarities to the calendar, I'm intrigued only they're all obviously cheaply made, China....
The kid's father comes out to talk to me, an older gentleman, as well East Indian, he introduces himself - "Pishna"?? - he recognizes me, knows me from someplace, wait, I'm "The Waiter" and he's now trying to give me his phone number, we should be friends, and I can see out the window of his shop, Edmonton, now, over autumn fields, I thought I was in town but I'm not anymore, this shop is somewhere on the outskirts...
***
(again, a discombobulating dream, neither bad nor good, just 'bleah' and defying interpretation...)