Wednesday, December 10th, 2014

Bits and pieces of the dream I was having came back to me while I was washing up this morning. None of it made sense. Climbing onto the roof of a beat-up old brownstone building. Walking through empty, dusty rooms until I found the stairs. Peering over the rail to see how deep the stairwell was. Pretty deep. The rail was oak or walnut, polished to a high gloss. The balusters were brass. The treads of each step were hewn from granite. I followed them down, looking back over my shoulder at the ruins of the top floor. Soon enough, I found myself in a splendidly-appointed lobby, all granite and whitewashed plaster with just a touch of chrome in an art deco style. The crowd in the lobby seemed to be headed for an event down the hall. I followed them to a vast natatorium with high walls filled with broad windows that threw sunlight across the length of a turquoise pool that seemed as wide and deep as a lake. Some kids asked me to join them in the game they were playing by the side of the pool, but they wouldn’t tell me how. They were playing with a football, but they weren’t playing football. I stopped asking them to show me how, and left. Cue alarm clock …

natatorium | 6:09 am CST
Category: dreams
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