Dream - The radiator shop which was "That Which Cannot Be Named"

On Thursday, May 6, 2010, in a sleep period running from possibly 2:00 AM (give or take a couple of hours) to 9:30 AM, I dreamed I was at the radiator shop, which in the dream was in an outdoor shopping center/plaza. It was a fancy plaza, somewhere near the university on the south, but somehow also near downtown Scottsdale, to the east on the north end. The plaza was divided by a divided roadway that ran through it, but traffic was usually light and people walked in the road as well as on the sidewalks. It had a lot of fake brick for crosswalk areas and medians and for trim. There were also some tall narrow slanted structures in places between the lanes, as decorations, maybe rising 10-15 feet, made of what seemed to be fancy concrete block, maybe coated with a clear varnish.

I had been gone from the radiator shop for a long time, but now I was back in it, working. I think I was brought back by my father, who was much younger looking, more like he was in his mid forties. Scott was there I think, and maybe Rick, looking as they had when they worked there decades ago, possibly Chuey too, but I'm not sure. Some other people worked there, too. I was at a bit of a loss, and wasn't sure I liked being back there. It had been a long time since I had worked in the shop, and I didn't know anything about what was going on. I understood it in a general way, in that jobs were being done, a lot of them from car dealers, and radiators were being repaired, and I understood how that was done, but I didn't know the details of any of the jobs, I didn't know what had come in or anything.

I went and sat in the office, which was at the front on one side. People rushed around doing things, sometimes going by the office or close enough that I could see them through the doorway, which I think faced a hallway, but the hallway also had a doorway immediately at the other side going to the front room. Sometimes people briefly came into the office, too. I was supposed to work at the invoices and bookkeeping I guess, but I hadn't done that for a long time, and I would have to carefully work my way into it, and I wasn't sure how much currently needed to be done, how much I had to catch up on, and I didn't even know what kind of bookkeeping they were doing now, whether it was like it was before or if they were doing something else. I made brief stabs at starting to do something, without ever actually starting or even getting to the point of examining things.

My mother, or someone, reminded me a few times that I needed to hurry, that my nieces and nephews were in a costume contest. They wore Halloween costumes, or something like it, and after the contest there was going to be a party there. It wasn't Halloween or even close, it was more like summer, but they were having it anyway. I could see it in my mind, up near Scottsdale Rd., a lot of kids in costumes standing outside in a roped-off square area, near a building, waiting for it to be time to be judged. It was afternoon now, and I think the judging and/or giving out of awards was going to take place closer to 5:00 PM, though I didn't know the exact time, and it could take place earlier.

I fiddled with things at the shop for a while, without actually doing anything besides occasionally talking to people, then finally walked out the front, which faced to the east, and walked along the shopping center to the north. When I reached the edge of it, I looked toward the east, toward where the contest would take place, a few blocks away, and I think I might have walked in that direction for a bit, but I couldn't see anybody and thought I must have missed it, that they must have been judged already and then gone inside, or maybe it was even already all over and everyone had gone home. I guess I thought about walking down to check, but went back to the shop. Maybe I wanted to finish up things there first or tell them I was leaving.

It was late in the day, and the sun was almost down. I walked back along the walk, going by the long building with its different stores, though a lot of it was still empty, and part still unfinished. It was made of bricks of a fancy dark shiny material, maybe that's what the structures in the median were made of too.

I couldn't find the radiator shop though, it wasn't anywhere. I walked back and forth along the building. The shop was somewhere in the northern portion, but there was no sign for it, and the doors I saw, which weren't many, were closed. Finally I talked to someone about it, someone who had been walking by, and the person said something about there being a problem with the city, that they didn't like the idea of a radiator shop there, and forbid that there be radiator in the name. I noticed a place in the wall that had big dark areas where signs could be, black rectangles where thin boards painted black had been put, and it came to me, perhaps helped along by the person I was talking to, that they were allowed to put up signs saying what the shop was during business hours, but had to take them down afterward, and that a small ad had even been placed in the New Times newspaper, joking about it, and saying that the business was "That Which Cannot Be Named," and I think they were even considering making that the official name. The shop name didn't show up on the building now because it was closed, it had gotten after 5:00 PM while I had walked to check on the kids in the costumes. Everyone had gone and I couldn't get in now.

I decided to walk toward the south, and after a while crossed the street to the other side of the plaza. I came to some rooms that were very unfinished, with open fronts and boards and debris in the rooms. Some other people also came up to them and were interested in them. There seemed to be some kind of mystery involved. I think they were supposed to meet someone there, maybe earlier, but the person didn't show up. I went in the rooms of the two places, crawling around on my hands and knees through the dust and the scattered boards, which tended to be in untidy piles near the edges of the rooms, especially toward the back. They talked about things while I went, following along. They sometimes wondered too why I was there, what my connection to it was. I said I think something to the effect that I was just looking around at things. They wandered off after a while, not all of them together, and I left, too.

I went off at an angle toward the east-southeast, initially still crawling. One of the men walked along with me for a while, a man in late middle age, who was dressed well. His hair, white on the sides, was combed straight back. A little ways after I left the building I got back to my feet and walked along. After a little while he made a remark though about my leg, asking what was wrong with it. I guessed I must have been limping a little. I said something about me being in the hospital I think, and pulled up my right pants leg a little and showed him the tan pressure bandage, the special cloth bandage wrapped tightly around my leg. We continued walking on, him being perhaps ten feet or so from me much of the time, and a little ahead of me.

After a while we came to another plaza. It was on the southeast corner of some roads. It was night now or close to it. We both went into the building, though it was closed. I think he may have still been hoping to meet someone, but I'm not sure. We wandered around inside for a while, though we got separated at some point. It got to be very late. The place was unfinished, some places very much so, with rooms or even aisles that had lots of boards sitting at odd angles, sometimes against the partly finished walls, and plasterboard that was sometimes put up and with the nail depressions plastered over, but otherwise unfinished. Some of the rooms and aisles were so blocked by the boards that it was difficult to get in them or through them, and I tried a few times but didn't get much past the entrance to them. It didn't seem worth trying harder than that and I was a little nervous about doing it, or about being there at all. It didn't seem likely that they wanted people here, late at night with it closed, and especially not in places that needed a lot of work. Most of the places, though, were simply closed up, and many of them had the entrances walled over, like there were no stores there now, though I think some were simply closed for the night. There didn't seem to be many that way though, like a lot of it was still vacant spaces. The man was still with me then, or at least loosely with me, since we still tended to be separated by quite a bit. We sometimes ran into other people too, an occasional maintenance worker. I worried about them a bit, and though some of them looked at us a little strangely, they continued on their way, though I wondered if one of them would call somebody about us.

After a while I turned to the left, to the north, maybe on his suggestion. The other way was mostly blocked anyway, and I had just been trying to get in a room that was mostly blocked. As I took the aisle to the left, to the north, I soon came to a large broad open room to the right, to the east. It was unfinished but not too terribly cluttered. People were practicing for a play. It was something set a few hundred years ago, and some of them were dressed for their parts and some weren't. They paused when they saw me, and one of the people, a middle aged woman who was slightly overweight, came up to me and explained that they were trying to get ready for a play that was going to be put on in a day or two. She said the place was supposed to be finished by then, they had assured her it would, but she looked back to the side a little doubtfully at it, saying she wasn't sure.

As she talked, she walked forward at a slight angle, to the west-southwest, and as we crossed the aisle I saw that there was another large unfinished room there too, but a little smaller than the other one, that led to another room, a little lower and slightly to the southwest. Other people were there, in both rooms, but were headed for the farther one, practicing some part in the play, though some looked back at me as they went. Some were in costumes but maybe not all. The woman started trying to talk me into being part of it, "Say, you could...," wanting me to play one of the parts, maybe just as an understudy. I kept declining, "No, no....", but she kept insisting I could do it, that there was time. It didn't seem like there was much time to me, to learn all the part in a day or two. I was afraid I would forget some of it, was almost certain I would, while I was trying to do it in front of the audience. I didn't really want to get involved in it anyway. I didn't say anything about it though, and we walked on into the first room, heading to the second, as she kept talking about it.


Note: At the time of the dream, I had recently been in the hospital for a severe infection in my lower right leg, and still had a pressure bandage on it. Although I could (and did) walk, it showed up in the dream with me crawling for a while with it.

Dream - The little blue alien that visited my mother

On Monday, October 11, 2010, around 4:00-5:20 AM, I dreamed I walked into the living room from the hallway, and saw a small gray-type alien standing in front of my mother, who looked asleep. She was sitting down, and was at the other, west, end of the room, at the far end of the house actually, in a long narrow area that in the dream ran along the end. It didn't seem to fit with the rest of the house and almost seemed an afterthought, like a filled-in carport. She was wearing a gray sweat shirt and sweat pants, and was sitting on a square couch-like area that ran around a table, with the ends of the couch against the walls, in front of a big window to the front yard area. Her head was tilted a little forward and a little to the side, her eyes closed, and she seemed to be murmuring something, repeating back what the alien was communicating to her. I'm not sure if the alien was actually speaking, or just communicating with its mind, by telepathy. They seemed to be in some kind of communion together, and I felt that they had had many such meetings before.

The alien wasn't actually gray, it was a kind of blue, almost shiny, like leather. It was probably about three feet high. Its head was huge, becoming slightly two lobed at the top, tapering down some almost in a triangular fashion, to a small neck that was relatively short. Its back was to me, and I could see only a little of the side of it. I thought at first it was the little gray kid from next door who sometimes came and talked to her (in the dream it was a human kid who sometimes came over, a little boy with short crew cut-like grayish blond hair), but the whole scene immediately disturbed me for some reason. Then I realized what it really was, an alien, and my eyes grew big.

The alien seemed to sense that something was happening and started to turn its head a little, tilting it slightly, a big black eye partly showing, then all of a sudden it was a faint blur heading my direction and a little to the side, and then fading out. It was gone in a tiny fraction of a second. If I had blinked at the wrong time I would have missed its exit, it was over so fast.

I went off after the gray (really blue) alien, following it into a dining area where several tables were located with people sitting at them. Beyond was another doorway, a large one, that the thing had apparently gone through. There seemed to be little dots of light floating in the air. I wondered if it was somehow the creature, or was maybe something connected with it using a teleportation device or dimensional portal. I swatted at them. They weren't very numerous, just occasional dots, maybe only one or a few visible at once. I felt a slight impact when connecting with them. I turned and the people at a large table there were laughing, though only some of them were looking my way. They had little laser pens and were making dots in the air. Most of the dots were toward the other end of their table. They were having fun with them, just with the making of them and also with seeing if they could confuse people. I said that I could feel it when I hit them, and swiped at the dots again a time or two. I said it a couple of times, but I'm not sure if they believed me.

I wandered off toward the front of the building. The series of rooms kept getting higher, and seemed to have wooden floors, with short transitions that sloped up to the next level. I went though a level that seemed to have something to do with the radiator shop, and then one at the end that seemed to be a house again. My father was there, looking much younger, maybe in his forties. My mother had looked much younger, too. He was talking to some people. They seemed to be minor TV or movie stars, middle aged, who had decided to take up martial arts, and were doing swinging kicks in the middle of the room, but holding on to each other so that the kicks swung way out to the side. My father was sitting on a some dark couch way out into the room, and kicks from one of the people went swinging out way over his head and behind the couch, and swinging back around. On a kick or two the kick scraped against the left-front side of my father's face; apparently it was intended to just brush it, but contacted it a little more firmly than it should have. My father had a shiny piece of thin pale flexible plastic stuck to his face in that area, and he reached up to it and complained a bit, remarking that it might have left a mark (an abrasion) on him that might take a few days to heal, and he would have to walk around like that and explain it to people.

Someone was standing on the other side of my father, a fairly short person who might have been a female, who I think had relatively short blondish hair that stuck out some at the sides, like it was poorly combed. The face of that person was also brushed by a kick, but more lightly, evidently at the planned pressure, though I was never sure whether the extra force on my father's face might not have been intentional. The person who did it remarked on it, but didn't seem to apologize. He and the person he was struggling with sometimes talked, sometimes to each other. After a while they stopped practicing and were wiping the sweat off their faces, and talking some more. I got the feeling that they were hoping to get some Stallone-like movie roles.

I went back to my mother, who had gone over toward the other side of the house, toward the bedrooms, and had gotten a very small gray alien against a small black briefcase, and wanted me to tape it down. I found some Scotch tape in a different room and came back with it. I saw though that she had lots of little aliens taped on already, one to two inches high. The first one was much smaller now, too. I wondered if they could get air, or if they even needed it.

I went looking for a magnifying glass, and went back up to the the upper levels. I tried to get back down to the lower level with a wooden staircase/ladder set in a half-size door opening, but found most of the slats broken away, and I started hanging onto the handle loop of a giant wooden basket they were slowly swinging back and forth and slowly lowering. A man, who might have been Buzz from the TV soap opera "Guiding Light", was in it singing a slow made-up song about a woman, Mary Tyler Moore maybe, who was in the hospital but he hoped would be out soon. The song was to the tune of a familiar one, I think I was thinking Auld Lang Syne, but when I woke up I realized that wasn't the one. I was hanging on to the huge arching handle of the basket, on the side near the top, as it slowly swung back and forth and slowly got lower, toward the small happy crowd below and also heading toward something else, some kind of round walled enclosure maybe five or six feet high, with something in it. The enclosure seemed to be the intended destination.

The long basket handle was fairly thin for its size, and it had a place where it was hooked together with something, a bright metal wire clasp almost like a safety pin or maybe even a paper clip, with a gap of several inches. It seemed a somewhat inadequate repair. I was holding on to the basket handle, on both sides of the clasp, hanging on. The clasp came unhooked then, basically slipped off a notch on the upper portion of the handle, and I was holding the basket handle, with one hand on each section, keeping it from separating too much. I had to go the bathroom and hoped they would hurry this up, but they seemed to be taking their time, as the basket slowly swung and very slowly got lower, and the man kept singing. It looked like it would have been better to take another route down, gone down by some other stairs, but it was too late now.

The dream had a lot more earlier in it, but I don't remember it.


I eventually mentioned to my mother that I had had a dream with her talking with an alien in the living room. She didn't like that idea.


Note: Oddly enough, at the end of the Amazing Race episode on Sunday, October 17, 2010, the two men who came in last and had to leave the race were apparently singers, and sang a slow song at the end about being last, to the tune of some Irish song that I can't remember, maybe Danny Boy but that may not be it. The song seemed eerily reminiscent of the tune in the dream, but with different words of course. The dream may have been predictive of it, almost a week before it happened.

Dream - The imitation Superman and the Kryptonian lettuce-man

On Monday, September 6, 2010, Labor Day, sometime in the afternoon, while napping at the computer, I dreamed I was in the neighborhood, going along 74th St., back to the house. Earlier I had been in a shopping center, that it seems went in parts into a shallow cave. I was also sometimes in a very large tunnel dug out of the earth, with uneven dirt walls. I was a long time in this part of the dream. I was a Superman-like figure, but at the same time apart, someone else too. There were some Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen and Perry White people, too.

Now I was also two people going back to the house somehow, generally separated, one sometimes more back by McDowell Rd. We had been at a shopping center there, where Los Arcos used to be.

Somebody was suspicious of me/us. I turned onto a cross street, still heading home, and something happened, I'm not sure if there was a struggle, or if I just confronted him and overpowered him, but I ended up carrying him around for a while, like a very large stuffed pillow. I got home, and he wouldn't give up, and I finally banged his head repeatedly and violently on things, holding his body and swinging him down. He was now more like a Teddy bear made out of a pillow. Some other people came in and wondered about what I was doing, maybe the Jimmy-Lois-Perry people, but I quickly hid him. Then after a while, I sneaked him out the window with me. He was much smaller now, and I held him against me like a light gray throw pillow wrapped up in some cloth.

I took him back to the shopping center where Los Arcos used to be. It was several stories high, maybe as many as six or eight, and was still under construction, though it was being used. I tried to hide him somewhere, but then had to move him. Eventually, I was high up on a partially finished section. I was going to try to sneak him out, but construction workers were around. It seems I was temporarily injured or weakened somehow, too, and didn't have all my powers. After sneaking along the section I was on, I tried to cross the gap to another, higher part of the building. Some scattered workers saw me and remarked on it, saying that something seemed to be wrong with me. Flying up and across a little, I managed to reach up and pull myself up onto the building section. People knew I was Superman and I didn't want them to know that something was wrong with me. I wasn't the real Superman, just a lesser imitation somehow, and knew this, but they didn't. They were wondering what I was doing, excited about it and talking among themselves while they watched me. I tried to seem like everything was alright, smiling, tried to seem purposeful. I still had to hide the package, the cloth-wrapped pillow-like man, somewhere. I put it in the section of the building I had reached, temporarily hiding it there. This area was still under construction, and probably no one would come here for a while.

A little later, I came back and got it and walked behind the buildings. It was still about the size of a flat throw pillow, wrapped up in cloth. There was a lot of mostly open land, fields, with widely spaced homes. I took it to where they were growing some lettuce-like things, something like leaf lettuce, a little purplish looking. I tried to hide it among them. A man was there, bent over, working. He somehow knew what was going on, and had even been waiting for me. He looked up at me in immediate understanding, and grunted an acknowledgment. We had actually done this sort of thing before. He was going to hide it among the densely packed rows of thick bunches of lettuce leaves. People most likely would never look way out here, or suspect anything, but if they did come out it would be hard to see without doing a thorough search, which they would have no reason to do. The package actually seemed to blend with the lettuce as I handed it toward him, and as we were both holding it for a time, it was coming to look something like the lettuce, seeming to become in part purplish lettuce. I hoped that it would be alright, that he would be alright. He was injured when I was beating up on him, and I hoped he would heal. The lettuce was actually from Krypton, Kryptonian lettuce, and it seemed that the genes from it would be partly blended into his, making him actually part lettuce. Since the lettuce was from Krypton, it too had superpowers, and I hoped and felt that being partly made of it would speed his healing and make him stronger faster, make him much better able to heal, and that he would get better quickly, in only a few days.

Then I went away from the area, to the edge of it, on I guess the north, and it seemed the land blended into a large ship, though embedded in the land, and I was walking along it along the way between the railing and the rooms. I met some people along the way, some of whom seemed to be against me. It seems I was at least partly disguised as Clark Kent at least part of the time. I also met some people from work, maybe Jimmy and Lois. There were some small struggles at times, and something about the lettuce-man coming back, sometimes as partly a man I think, and there was some worry that someone was going to try to hold it over me, what I had done to him, use the threat of exposure of it to control me. I don't remember much about it anymore.

Dream - Harry Potter, Mr. Monk, and the pizza of appreciation

On Sunday, August 29, 2010, around 7:00-10:30 AM, I dreamed it was daytime, and I was driving to the other (west) side of Phoenix, in the 1970 Cadillac. My mother might have been with me. I went to an open place, not much development, with dirt and some desert vegetation, bushes, and small trees. The ground was rising up some, in a roll. Before that it seems there was a small canal running across the land, a few scattered buildings, not much. I spent quite a bit of time there, in the beginning of the dream, but I don't remember much about it.

Then I was in Tempe, it seems around the Mill Ave. area, more or less. It was late afternoon, evening, or might have been very early morning instead. I might have stopped in a small store of some kind. There were lots of small cross streets. It wasn't really as it is in real life, though it's possible it might have more of a resemblance to it as at was decades ago, combined with other things. It's possible my mother was with me, I'm not sure. I went back there a few times, and possibly she wasn't initially with me, but I know she was later.

We went to an area that had recently been constructed, still under construction in places. A major road went north/south, and on the east a smaller road looped out from it, more curved on the south side but with a sharper corner on the north, before it went back straight to the main street. Pale stucco buildings and walls lined the loop road; some of the buildings were right at the sidewalk and some set back some, with low stucco walls in front. It was a narrow, residential-sized street, with parallel parking, some in indents. Some cars were parked there now. I got the Cadillac in a narrow space, somehow, by force of will it seems, magic, somehow lifting it sideways, mostly with my mind. Later, I would make several trips there, and collapse the car to a small bundle of things, letting me park it wherever I wanted.

There was a house in the loop formed by the road. It had a broad front yard going to the main street, and a much smaller back yard, hardly anything at all, with a very small asphalt paved parking area at the back, with curbs, and a lane that ran through under the house, like a driveway. The back yard, with its parking area, ended at the loop road. Sometimes the front yard was much larger, especially at the beginning. A family lived in the house, mother and father and several children, of varying ages. The house seemed somehow reminiscent of my grandmother's house in Arizona, at least some of the interior of it, even having an old organ in the living room, but the outside of the house didn't look anything like it.

I went in it and talked to the people a bit, and it seems that the Harry Potter kid did also at some point. I think they were all excited and happy to see him. A new Harry Potter movie series was being made, with a new person playing him. It had been a long time since the last one, maybe a couple of decades, and the previous actor was middle-aged, too old to play him. They were doing a search for a new boy to play him. What seemed to be the favorite was a shy, slim, quiet boy with a crew cut, pale light brown, almost blond hair. As I kept looking at him, it sometimes seemed that he was older, and that the hair on the sides, very short there, was actually gray or white. I kept seeing him on a street corner, in a mixed residential/commercial area, where I guess they first discovered him. I had a feeling he could do real magic, or could be trained to. Sometimes, too, I seemed to be him.

Mr. Monk (from the TV show Monk) showed up sometimes, and was apparently interchangeable with the boy playing Harry Potter. He went to the house in the loop, where he had found that he was accepted and the people liked him. He kept going back frequently, sometimes more then once a day. He was very happy and smiling, that he had found some people who liked and accepted him. He got in the habit of always bringing them a pizza, to show his appreciation with them.

I got the flat pile of things that represented the car, which we left in the small parking area of a business, behind a low stucco wall, in the straight area on the north that led west to the main road. I had left it on the trunk of another car. There was a small medallion, too, that I used in the process of restoring it. It was a lot easier to do it this way than to try to park the car. I could just carry it and find some impossible parking space and then restore it there. We were leaving now, going away from here for the time being. I worried about losing the medallion, but then had it again. I thought I could probably do it without the medallion, that it might just be a prop I was using to help me do it, but I still worried about it.

My mother had walked on, to the street where my car was parked, the main street. It was perhaps a hundred feet or so down the road from the loop, to the north. This seems contradictory, but I had no problem with it in the dream. I went after her, carrying the flat bunch of things that was my car, its layers of flat things, loosely connected. It seems it might have been clear plastic sleeves, maybe 29 x 18 inches, connected on the end sometimes, with papers or even flattened cloth sheets inside them, with some other things, and maybe 4 to 6 inches high.

I went out to the car, in spite of actually carrying the car in the form of the bundle. I noted the contradiction in my mind. It seemed a little amusing, but that seemed to be the way it was, and I had no ready solution for it. This section of the street didn't have too much built up along it, it had a little bit though, perhaps more on the other side of the street. A few other cars were parked on the street here, but not many. A pale stucco wall ran beside the sidewalk. Several hundred feet ahead, to the north, the road ended where it intersected a major cross street. It late in the afternoon I think, getting toward evening.

My mother had already gotten in the car. I laid the bundle on the trunk momentarily, then opened the trunk and put it inside, the medallion with it I think, then closed the trunk. I was distracted for a bit by someone who had come up on the sidewalk, a woman in her thirties maybe, and talked to her for a little while from several feet away. There were also one or two other people, at least one of which might be associated with her, but I talked to her. It seems the Harry Potter character might have been there too, a little farther away maybe. We might have been talking about him.

I turned back to the car and saw that my mother had gotten tired of waiting and had driven away in it. I hurried after her, calling out, pausing frequently, uncertain what to do, how to proceed. It seemed I could use magic to get to her, zoom through the air somehow, and though it seemed to me that I could do it, I wasn't sure how. She reached the main cross street and turned right onto it. I followed after, sometimes making long hops covering a broad area. Another car was there too, that might have come up from the west. It felt kind of like the road that used to run by Woolco, going to Phoenix, before they changed it. My mother turned left at Rural/Scottsdale Rd., going north. I continued after her. I kept trying to catch up with her, kept trying to reach the car, but was unable to, and mile after mile went by.

I finally caught up with the car, getting a little frantic by this time. It was daylight, I'm not sure what time, but it seemed to be an odd hour, and maybe Sunday. I was in what looked like the downtown, business area of a small town, lots of streets with businesses on them, cars parked at a slant along the streets. I got in the car and talked to my mother, and found that she still wanted to drive. She sat there in the driver's seat, and stayed there. I couldn't convince her to let me drive. I finally got in on her side, and made her move over, though she was actually sitting on top of me at first. She moved over, then, complaining. We were stopped in the street, and had been for a while, but there was no traffic at the moment. I worried about the police seeing us and possibly complaining. I thought I had seen a police car on a nearby street, but nothing happened. Maybe he didn't see us, or maybe we got done fast enough that he decided to let us go. My mother wanted me to drive back to the other side of Phoenix again. I had been trying to go back there too, but it kept getting later, things were taking a long time.

Sometime later I went somewhere, it seems alone, to what felt like somewhere in Scottsdale, possibly in the Hayden Rd. area, possibly somewhere between Indian School and Thomas Rds. I went into a small shopping center, into a room there, a small store maybe. Several people were there. It seemed to be a fan kind of place, maybe a comic book store. There were several people there. I saw a Star Trek fan. He played a character in the store there, and maybe some other places, probably Spock or another Vulcan, as they looked in the original series. He seemed slightly Asian. He looked at me with an amused smile and talked with me a bit. He then gave me a shiny business card, with a broad crosshatched shiny area, the streaks going different ways in each little square/diamond. He wanted me to use the card to contact him later. He apparently had some other place he worked at, too.

Mr. Monk went back/I went back to the residential neighborhood, in the area where they found the boy to play Harry Potter. Three or so other boys were there. They were also hoping to be chosen to play him. I was surprised that the movie people were still looking, I thought the choice had already been pretty much made. The boys were still hopeful. I didn't think they had much of a chance, but didn't say so. One of them was larger than the others, a bit pudgy, with an odd looking head. He was disturbing to look at. He did most of the talking though, more than the other kids. It seemed to be mid to late afternoon, with lots of shadows, and the temperature was pleasant.

It was daytime, then, on a different day maybe, and a person in the house by the loop road, a young man, maybe a teenager, was talking to reporters, from inside, through the window. He said they were getting tired of Monk coming back, and bringing the pizza with him each time. They were getting tired of the pizza, and of him coming all the time. They liked seeing him at first, but they had gotten tired of it, of him coming all the time. The reporter was interested, and was busily writing it down in a notebook. He seemed more of a gossip reporter. Then the kid changed his mind, and didn't want them to say it about the pizza, he felt that it might be giving away too much. He told the reporter to write down a particular soup instead. It was a vegetable/grain soup, gazpacho maybe, but I don't remember the name. The reporter quickly changed what had been written and put down the soup name instead.

Monk went to a small fast-food pizza/Italian place in the outer portion of the road loop. Businesses were packed together there now. It was a lot different from what it was earlier. There was a huge crowd of people on the sidewalks and street. The business was largely take-out, but there was a small dimly-lit inside section. It was the place that the Star Trek person worked. Monk, holding the shiny card and using it to find the address, had decided to get pizza there now; he had been getting it somewhere else before. He/I hoped that it would still taste okay, and that they wouldn't mind the difference. There was a bit of excitement there. The employees, seemingly amused, but intent on doing good service, did some rushing around, but something else seemed to be going on, too. Monk finally got the pizza and headed back over to the house.

He had a lot of trouble getting in. The family didn't want him anymore. It had become too old, and too much of a media circus. He wandered back and forth, going past it on the backyard side and down the driveway to the street, and looking at it from the front side, over the long sloping lawn, from near the street, then going back to the loop street by the back. It seemed to be mid to late afternoon. Sometimes a member or two of the family came out across the back yard to talk to him, with one or two large dogs, maybe cocker spaniels or retrievers, sometimes running ahead of them. But frequently, especially at first, the family just looked out through the windows, sometimes telling him to go away.

After a lot of difficulty, he finally managed to get them to agree to let him in. The pizza seemed acceptable, though some of them looked at it a little curiously, with slight smiles. The kids just seemed to want to mostly play, sometimes sitting on the floor. The adults talked to him casually, with little smiles, but seemed much more distant than before. Monk tried to act like it was like the other times, seeming to be happy, and smiling, and he was happy to be in there, but he wasn't certain he would be let back in again.


My mother and I were out driving again. I drove for a long time, and we talked to each other a lot. It seemed to be mostly in the Phoenix area. It was getting late, around dusk, and we eventually came to near the Tempe area, from the west. As we got closer to it, the road turned right, to the south, and not far from that, on the left, the east, was a squarish old building, dark brick, several stories high, that had a broad opening in the lower floor, basically the whole side of the lower story. I had seen the building several times before, as I drove around in the dream, even been in it.

I debated with myself whether to go into the building. If I drove into it, it would be a shortcut to getting home. When we came out, on the other side, we would be closer to home, and there would be less driving involved. I had done it before, without any real problem, but it was tricky doing it. It involved going up a square spiraling ramp at high speed, and the car shooting through a wall, the north one, fading through it, the wall acting like a dimensional gateway. I felt uneasy about it now, and it didn't feel like it would be quite so easy as it had been. I was tireder now, and it would be more difficult to react that quickly. I discussed taking the building with my mother, briefly, but she basically said that it was alright if I wanted to do it, leaving it up to me.

In the end I turned into it, and we were going up the ramp. It twisted around in a broad spiral, with straight sides, and became much narrower and finally almost vertical, going up boards that were nailed across a slightly sloping wall. It became too hard to drive the car, because of the steepness. We got out and I carried it, or what had become of it, leading the way. Other people or cars were also going up. The passage became the size of a narrow hallway. A few stories up, as we reached the east wall again, we got to something like a small landing, with a door beside it, to the left. Past the landing, the slope was more gentle. Cars whizzed past us, evidently not needing to stop there. Some seemed to disappear through the door like ghosts, at an extreme angle, without slowing at all, while others continued on, to some other destination, some disappearing through the north wall. I used the shiny card given to me earlier, giving it to someone at the window at the landing I think, to finally get out. I worried about getting the card back, but I did, in a room on the other side, at a small counter that was on the other side of the window at the landing. I needed the contact information on it, and was glad I got it back.

The room was at ground level, in spite of my having entered it from a few stories up. The door acted as a dimensional gateway, allowing the attachment. The room was fairly good-sized, about the size of a small store, and had a lot of people playing video or arcade type games. It's possible some betting took place, too. There was also a long counter by a wall, at the front, where people could get food and drinks. I couldn't see it from where I was, because it was beside me and a wall was in the way, but I knew it was there, from when I spent some time there early in the dream. I was basically at the entranceway to the room. A few people, young men, stood in and by the entranceway, casually, but looking at me, seeming to guard the entrance. Apparently I wasn't too welcome anymore, perhaps because of what happened last time, or maybe it had something to do with the recent trip up the long sloping ramp. When I had been here before, I had used the normal entrance, not come through the gateway. When I had used the gateway before, driving at high speed into the north wall, I had sailed through the darkness, and landed on a road somewhere, closer to home.

We went outside, and it was daylight. The building was just one story. It felt a little odd, going in a multistory building and coming out a one-story one, but the passage through the long sloping ramp, and then the door, had been dimensional travel of some kind, and the multistory building with the ramp was elsewhere, somewhere to the west, not even visible from here I think. We were in the area where Woolco used to be. The building was across the parking lot from it, at or near the northeast corner of the lot, near Rural Rd. We went home then, or maybe somewhere else.

Dream - The man with the leatherlike fishlike head

On Thursday, August 26, 2010, around 8:00-11:50 AM, I had an interesting dream. I don't remember a lot of the beginning, though I think my father was in it in some way, and maybe my mother too. It seems the earlier part of the dream was in Arizona, at least some of it a little outside the Phoenix area, or at least the most populated parts of it.

Then I looked different, perhaps fiftyish, but with a totally different face and body. I'm not sure where I was, somewhere in Nevada or Arizona I think, maybe in Nevada near the Arizona border. It was daytime. I had come to an area where I had had something going on. I was going along a miles wide strip of land between a small road and a canal, with mountains in the background. The land had lots of vegetation, brush and small trees, and some somewhat faded wispy tall grass. I was apparently raising cattle there, or some other animal. I drove along, following the migration of the animals, and started spraying from a huge broad nozzle, with a thick, very sturdy hose, something that would almost stay in position by itself in the air. The streams came out as though from a broad flat brush, because of the broad flat nozzle with multiple openings. I was worried about it not raining enough the last few months, and the vegetation getting too dry, and there not being enough water for the animals.

A little later, a late middle-aged man with a strange leatherlike, fishlike head showed up and talked with me for a while. He was chinless, with some fine wrinkles, vertical or almost so. His neck was huge, probably bigger than his head, and his head flowed smoothly into it. He had small dark widely set eyes. I'm not sure he had any ears, maybe just little holes with curved wrinkles going into them. His mouth was practically lipless, curved downward and drooping sharply at the corners, and open most of the time, darkness within. His skin was an odd pale tan. He talked quietly, with a bit of flat harshness, like a rural Midwestern accent. I think I was around where I was before, but I might have moved off a little bit, to somewhere relatively nearby.

Sometime later, I drove back to Nevada. I looked more normal, though maybe not entirely like I normally do. I seemed to be younger too, maybe in my thirties. My father was in the area somehow. He came in a different car. He may have been somewhere behind or somewhere else, even off to the side. I was going down the hill toward work now, again. It was dark. The place was different, almost a parallel reality. A business had come in and taken over, and was building something big to the left, in the distance. There were also smaller buildings scattered to the right. There were tall dark brown stakes in clusters at the edge of the road, perhaps a foot and a half high, on both sides of the road. The clusters were widely spaced, and getting larger as I went on, intruding more into the road.

Suddenly someone was standing in front of me, illuminated by the headlights, a hazy figure in the dust. I stopped, and then considered going forward, but I couldn't, because the figure was still there. Then a large earthmoving machine moved in from the right, blocking my path, turning its big scoop toward me. I don't remember now why the man was there, but he wanted to stop me. I'm under the impression that he might have had some kind of car trouble, or something like that, but there was also something else going on, war games of some kind, explosions from bombs dropped by planes, at least some of the explosions in the sky, none real close. It also seems that there were a few other people, not many. It almost seems like they were refugees in some way from the business, off the road a few miles to the left and a little ahead, though it had small branches scattered out in the valley, which was otherwise mostly empty. There was something dangerous happening there at the business, something that shouldn't be happening. It's possible they were let go after they found out. They were afraid that some people might be coming after them soon, to harm them. It was important for them to get away, important for me to get away too. There were still explosions in the air sometimes, bright flashes, from war games apparently, or maybe it was caused by something else, bombs set off for some other reason. The people started to move across the road, heading out across the valley to the other side. I'm not sure if I followed them or not.

I went back again later. It was night. I was worried about my car, the one I was driving, which was apparently the 1970 El Camino. I wondered if it had enough gas, and the gauge, apparently the speedometer, though sometimes it felt like the gas gauge, and it was on the small side, had formed red beads on the upper half of the glass. It was making a strange noise too, and I saw bursts of sparks, like fireflies, in front and zooming over, around and past the car, and I nervously wondered if they were coming from the car, but I also seemed to see them coming on the road from the sides, several car lengths ahead of me, intermittently, and swooping toward me. I was afraid it was the speedometer cable, that it needed oiling. I hoped it could hold out for a while, and not get damaged. There was a place on the other side of the valley, on the right, a large auto parts place, plus something else with it, part of it, it almost seems like an eating place or a motel, although it was all part of the same one-story building. My father was also going this way, maybe coming in from a side road in the earlier part of the valley. I don't remember whether he was ahead of me or behind me. He might have stopped at a little place before getting on the main road.

Then I came back again later, maybe days later, I'm not sure. It was night and raining. The clusters of stakes were still there, indented into the road, but as I went along, getting to the lowest part of the valley, I saw individual stakes driven in the road, widely scattered, in different places. They had apparently been put there to stop people from proceeding. They had evidently been put here since I had been here before, I guess they really decided to block it off this time, keep all but authorized people out. There was no way to avoid the stakes, not at the speed I was going. It was too late to stop too, the road was too slick with the rain, and I was still going slightly downhill. I grimaced and hit the stakes over and over again, apparently breaking them off. I heard a pop-pop sound, and I realized I had at least two tires flat. I kept on going, hoping to make it across to where the auto parts place was, or at least close to it. I could probably get it repaired there. They were open late, I'm not sure they ever really closed.

I got there. It was still raining. The place was lit up and had a tall chain link fence around it, enclosing the building and a small dirt/gravel parking lot. A lot of people were there. I think I talked to some people or tried to. There seemed to be a little bit of tension, not only because I was an outsider, but because something was going to happen, something dangerous was coming. A lot of the people began to move off now, to leave, to get away before it got here.

Then I was back in town, though I'm not sure which one. I stopped in a small shopping center, a strip small. It was daytime. The weather was fairly cool, and it seemed to be overcast. I think I had wanted to get a newspaper, but I had stopped in two stores at the end of the shopping center, one some kind of gift shop and the other an old bookstore, then I was working on the car, apparently the 1987 Oldsmobile. I had the body up in the air, with the frame apparently still on the ground. Dust and pieces of dirt were falling out, getting on me when I walked under it. The body was held up on tall metal poles. Another car was not far away. This section of the parking lot, a fairly small section to the side, was mostly empty. A few people were around though, local people it seems, some out near me and some back toward the stores. Some of them talked some and I talked back. I went back to the stores briefly, and then went back to the cars. The other car also seemed to be associated with me, but I'm not sure how now. I think it was getting late in the afternoon. I really needed to get finished up with things, as best that I could, and then get started back to Arizona.

The man with the leatherlike, fishlike head came back. He was a friend before, but seemed troublesome now, argumentative. He was against what I was doing. I had a gun somehow. It was laying somewhere I think, near or in my car, and I got it and pointed it at him, my arm out straight, and then after a pause, fired, shooting him in the forehead. I saw it hit him and then I saw it from behind too, the bullet coming out the back of his head, out a of small red hole. He stood there for a little bit, then fell. The people seemed bothered by it, saddened. They seemed friendly and I wasn't sure they would tell anyone, but it was possible some of them might, might tell the police and send them here. I felt if they did, it might be a little while before they decided to do it, and that I had a little time, though maybe not much.

I mounted him on the roof of the car, sideways across it, and took him to Mexico, to dispose of him there. My family had a place there, a ranch or something like that. When I got there, or soon after, fireworks were going off, bright flashes in the sky. It was a little disturbing, and a distraction. I had to get the body taken care of, hidden somewhere, and I didn't like all the commotion. I didn't really want anyone from the town happening by and seeing what I was doing, and seeing the body. A few people from the ranch were there, including a few kids. They seemed a little subdued, maybe a little uncertain, because of the body. After a while, surprisingly, he woke up, not dead after all, his wound healed. He stood up and looked at me. I was a little relieved that he was alive somehow, though I didn't really understand it. I supposed that creatures like him must have some special healing/regeneration ability that I didn't know about.

Dream - An audition at a hotel, the small lakes being built, the woman with paper dolls and pictures, and the picture of a woman that came alive with demon horns and tail

On Saturday, December 19, 2010, around 6:00-9:45 AM, I dreamed I was at a big hotel, and had been for a while I guess. Somebody was having an argument with the management.

He left then, going toward the back, swinging his two suitcases up, but he became me at some point. As he/I walked along toward the back of the hotel, an announcer was talking in the distance, like hearing a TV program, but apparently over the intercom, about celebrities, carrying on a discussion with someone. As I went along, over tiled floor now, going past the kitchen area, heading for the double glass doors, he was talking about Bob Hope, about how he in his last few years did some kind of tricks on hotel employees, pretended that something was happening when it wasn't or even that he was somebody else maybe, I'm not sure now. I wondered if it was a good idea to be saying that where it could be heard by the hotel employees and guests, maybe even worried too about the Bob Hope people suing them, unless maybe they could prove it.

He/I went out the glass doors into the parking lot behind the hotel. It wasn't quite as nice out here. I angled toward the right and walked over a high curb separating the pavement from a strip of landscaping, a long narrow strip of green grass. I thought that, oh well, I walked here from home, might as well walk back. It was several miles, but doable. The temperature was pleasant, and though it was day, sometime in the afternoon maybe, though I'm not sure, the light wasn't bright. It seemed to be overcast.

I came to the grassy park-like area again, with the small pond-size lake. I had gone by it earlier, either in this dream or an earlier one that night. When I first went by, it was a small, squarish, with rounded corners, deep-set lake, sunken with a low green grassy mound running around it, with an additional area to the south of it, just across a small lane that was perhaps a pedestrian and/or bike path. The area to the south hadn't been as developed, mostly dirt with patches of green grass.

When I went by another time though, they had big equipment out, working on it, and a machine with a long arm and a scoop, digging, moving earth. People were supervising it, not construction people but people in charge of the project, park people, particularly a man who was in charge and looking at what was happening carefully, intently, his head leaning forward. He was wearing a inexpensive suit I think, but with the collar open and maybe without a tie.

They were making some kind of connection between the small lake and the small undeveloped lot to the south, making them both developed as a park. They were redoing how the lake was, making a connection between it and the undeveloped lot, some kind of channel, that was supposed to go under the walkway area between them, but which was initially being dug straight across, without a tunnel. It would later be roofed over with dirt, and there would be a continuous flow of water when it was done, from the previously undeveloped lot to the lake, and I guess back in some way, maybe looping back further under ground. I had the impression that the return flow would be in a narrower passage lower than and a little to the east of the higher passage.

Looking at it now, things had changed quite a bit since I had been there. Instead of the low mound around the lake being dug up, it seemed to be back but covered by dark tarps that were strapped down, like it was unfinished. The lake itself had been substantially resculpted, and was much smaller. It was divided into two sections, one to the southwest and one to the northeast, both deep funnel shapes, separated by a high mound, and connected by a small tunnel near the bottom. The mounds in general around them were also higher, gradually turning into a relatively steep slope that went down to a trough in the dirt between the southwest section of the pond and the lot, with water running down it, a relatively shallow stream, toward the lake, from a small undistinguished-looking-as-yet pool in the lot. The ground was almost all redone where the lake had been, and was now just slimy brown dirt mixed with river gravel. It was fairly stiff though, and didn't seem to be eroded by the flowing water.

I stood there, on the slope of the trough, looking down at it. The water had started flowing not long after I arrived, the man in the suit warning everyone about it, and worrying about the dirt giving way and telling everyone to stay back. The dirt seemed to be fairly steady though. I peered down at it and the water wasn't taking it away by any noticeable extent. I went and looked over in the southeast section of the lake. The sides were steep and the area where the water would be was fairly small. The point at the bottom curved some, and there was a small hole near the bottom going to the other section of the lake. The small amount of water coming in mostly rushed on through the hole, making a small slurping noise. The lake wasn't getting any higher right now. The water remained around the bottom, and it seemed like it was going to take a long time to get them both filled.

I went around to the other side. A couple of women were there, evidently in charge of that side of the lake. One was slimmer than the other and appeared middle aged, with long, curly, fading, somewhat frizzy hair. The other was younger, twenties or thirties probably, and did most of the talking. After a while she showed me where she had some things of hers kept to show people when the project was done, and more people were visiting. They were things in hinged racks attached to the steep side of the tall mound between the lake sections, large metal-rimmed rectangular plates with scrapbook-like stuff attached, sometimes to or behind clear plastic panels held by the metal frame, sometimes on wire hangers that stuck out. There were several of the tall plates with rods that stuck out up and down at the back, that they were hinged on, so they could swing back and forth, like the pages of a book. Some had the wire extensions, and I think some were mostly wire hangers, that things could be attached to. Some of it that she showed me were old newspaper clippings. A lot, maybe most, was personal stuff, things she liked, stuff about her family, things she used to be interested in, though some was historical stuff about the park and the city I think.

She crouched down in the damp, slick, pebble-embedded dirt, talking about it, one time pulling the back of her shirt down onto her pants, though nothing was showing, maybe a little of the top of her underpants. She had a lot of paper dolls there too, on the boards and wire racks, some showing women in dress styles of long ago, from the 1950s or earlier, though some I think were from the 60s. She was crouched down in the small narrow area where the water would be, when it eventually rose high enough, and was talking continuously now for a while. Her voice sounded very much like the NCIS TV show goth girl, though she didn't look like that, or at least not goth-like. It's possible she may have looked a little like her in a non-goth, more everyday style, though I'm not sure. She really looked more normal. She appeared to be of normal weight, perhaps a little on the slim side, and slightly curvy, but not overly so.

Sometimes the things she showed me came to life for a while, in a strange sense. One time she showed me or I saw a strange figure with a heavily made-up movie star type face, but done in a strange way, a woman but the face was almost androgynous, though it had lipstick and heavy makeup, like a woman playing a guy in drag. Then it came to life, but as a teen or maybe preteen, with the grownup heavily made-up face, overly large for the body it was now attached to, and it wandered along on the sharp slopes of the narrow pond area, six to ten feet from me, frequently looking toward me. It was profoundly disturbing. The face looked even stranger full-size and in vivid color. The woman was still crouching, facing to the north, away from the strange figure. I kept looking back at it, and it looked at me, sometimes with it's face slightly turned to one side, just a little, like it was making a pose or trying to look diffident, all the while looking at me. It was extremely disturbing and distracting. Finally it went away.

I noticed a woman figure, one of the paper dolls, hanging out attached somehow to one of the wire areas. They were just stiff wires that stuck out mostly to the side, just slightly bent toward the ends, like something a store might hang items on. I'm not sure how the cut-out figure was attached to it, it seemed to be stuck to it somehow, but it was a black and white picture of a woman, with clothes from the 50s, but she had had something done to her, something put on the picture later it felt, huge grayish shadowy curved horns projecting up from the corners of her head, from behind, and a shadowy cape, with the collar sticking up, and a shadowy barbed tail coming up from behind. She had her eyes narrowed some, a little, and her mouth in an evil knowing smile, and her eyes looking right at you with a smug, knowing, evil look, enticing at the same time. I touched it, pulling it up closer to me, to see it better, and it came off. I looked at it, and she came to life, a large, maybe slightly larger than life figure, still black and white, shadowy, translucent even, but real, and alive. She kind of flashed before me that way for a short while. I was somewhat alarmed by it, drawing back some.

At some point I let the paper cutoff, the paper doll of her, with its tabs, fall onto the slope, or perhaps set it there, and turned back to the woman, who was still crouching and talking, her head down, continuing to work at something. I came to worry some about the items that had fallen off, looking in particular back at the paper cutout of the horned woman, laying on the slope, and turned back to the crouching woman, and then back to it. I told her after a while that some of the things had fallen off, and would have to eventually be moved, put back, otherwise when the water rose enough they would be covered. She agreed, but said it could be done later, there wasn't any hurry about it, there was plenty of time, something like that, turning her head very slightly toward me, where I stood behind her and a little to the side. She didn't turn her head much, just a little, and her eyes stayed on what she was doing.

I looked back, at where the horned woman cutout lay, mentioning that one specifically as one that had come off, and as I gestured with my right hand about it, I saw the cutout of the horned woman stuck to my palm. I stopped moving my hand, stopped making the gesture, with a little slight final shake, as it settled in on me that it was there. I stared at it, my words trailing off I think, and its face stared back at me, the eyes looking at me, and the face with its somewhat malicious, enticing smile.


The dream had quite a bit more at the beginning, about staying at the hotel, and maybe about going to the hotel, but I don't remember it, except for possibly the portions about walking by the small lake.

Dream - The redwood pool in the back yard that became a pool in the Cadillac

On Saturday, December 18, 2010, around 12:15-2:45 PM, I dreamed there was a tall pool of water with sides of redwood fence material, vertical boards, at the southeast corner of the back yard, near and adjoining the alley. It was something I made. I was inside the house with my mother and some other family members, other people too, I think.

I went out to the pool, fully dressed, and got in it. I wore my glasses too I think, and had a bubble of plastic over my head to protect my hair and ears. The plastic stuck out like a cloud around my head. Other people came out from time to time to check on me. It was late afternoon and we were going to have supper soon. Eventually it came to be that the pool was built onto the back of the gold 1970 Cadillac.

I would bounce around in the water, sometimes going under then coming back up. It was too small to really swim in, maybe seven or eight feet square. Sometimes I looked out to one side or another. There were little kids in the alley sometimes, walking around a bit, playing there I guess. They tended to be to one side or the other of the pool. I don't think I talked to them much, maybe not at all.

Sometimes I would stay with my head above water for quite a while. Some people from the house started coming out again, and I started going under water some more. I realized that the plastic over my head was gone, then. I had taken it off and forgotten to put it back on. I was a bit concerned about it, but my hair seemed unaffected, the water just seemed to roll off when I came up, so I decided to let it go.

My mother came out one time, talking to me, and got in the water with me. She seemed much younger, in her fifties maybe. She then got out of the water, still talking, and made her way over the back seat of the Cadillac, and over the back of the front seat, going along by the windows, and got into the front seat and then out.

A friend of my sister's came over, a tall man with dark hair who seemed to be in his twenties. I didn't know him much, maybe not at all. He got in the water on the east side, and talked with me for a while. He talked gently and tried to be friendly, but I was uncomfortable with him being there, and tended to give short answers to his questions. One time he somehow misinterpreted something I said, to be a remark putting him down, and though he chided me about it a bit, he remained friendly. I think I tried to tell him that it wasn't what I meant, but he didn't accept it. He finally got out.

My sister came after a while with several of her friends, and got in the Cadillac and started it, over my continual objections, and backed it out, pulling the pool loose from the yard. Then she started slowly driving west down the alley, trying to reassure me, saying that I didn't understand.

Partway down the alley, a few houses down, heading west, my sister paused and stopped. She seemed to have gotten bogged down somehow, I think. We were near a chain link fence, to the right, perhaps a little over it, by or partly in a yard that was in disrepair, with uneven and raw dirt, dug through areas of grass. A thin man, perhaps in his late fifties or early sixties, was out in the back yard there, or came out there, and was standing there looking at us and talking to us. I don't think he was mad, though, mainly just interested. People were getting out of the car, Sharon's friends maybe. Quite a few people had been in there, a lot of them fairly young. I headed back toward home. I think I may have gone out there through the air, along by the trees, watching the car from above, instead of being in the car with her, and may have gone home the same way.

There were drinking glasses and other things, in heavy clear plastic bags, in the side yard on the west, over by the old, old bush near the side fence, in the grass, partly hidden there. The bags weren't large, just able to hold a few gallons. They were similar to the bags the hospital gives to patients to put belongings and things in, heavy plastic with a built-in cord for a drawstring. They were in a few places, in the same general area, some of them close by each other, even touching, but none of them very far from the others. They were sometimes in layers, going down some into the ground, into a hole there. I'm not sure there was originally a hole, but one seemed to have formed around them as more and more stuff got added, the lower layers sinking down into the earth. I had put them there when cleaning up the yard, different things at different times, some of it long ago, some of it more recent, perhaps even today.

I was trying to save what I had put there, at least some of it. The glasses were generally old glasses of some kind I think, perhaps some of them some kind of commemorative glasses, perhaps tourist type things, or they could have been something from fast food places, or perhaps some combination of that. It's possible that the tall bumpy green glass with the stem was in there too, the big green goblet, the one my mother got, as a free gift, when subscribing to a book series. She used to let me use it, and bring me drinks in it, such as orange or cranberry juice, and perhaps iced tea.

Other things were in the bags too, I think, that were just trash, papers and things, though some of that I might want to save too, if it turned out to be something that shouldn't be thrown away. It would all have to be gone through, sorted out, with the stuff I wanted to save, including a lot of the glasses, taken inside.

I spent some time digging through them, seeing what was there, before kind of loosely putting them back. This seemed like a really bad place to store them, but I didn't have a lot of time now to do anything with them. I hoped that no one would throw them away before I got it done. I hoped, too, that I would be able to get it done, that I wouldn't pass away and leave it unfinished. If I did, I hoped that someone would go through it, though it seemed a wistful feeling. I took some with me, some of the bags, and carried them around with me, as I wandered around in the yard, sometimes going all the way over to the other side and back, before finally setting them down somewhere, maybe back by the bush. I sometimes went back to the bags by the bush, looking down at them at times, sometimes going through them again a little, worrying about them. There was a lot more trash now, and papers and things, mixed in with them, even outside the bags, some on top, some down in the layers, stuff I hadn't realized was there before, and was surprised to see now.

My mother brought some plates of food out to the back yard, and gave me some, while talking to me about it and about what was going to happen. She was getting dinner ready, there was going to be a family get-together, and some other people were coming, too. The food needed to be tested, before she served it, and she wanted me to try it out. I think it was something she had had in the refrigerator for a while, or had set out too long, or some other thing. It's possible some may have come from suspicious cans, but I'm not sure now. It was odd food, maybe uneven pale green lumps, like some fancy marshmallow type salads. She needed to see if they were actually alright, that nothing was wrong with them, that they weren't poisoned or spoiled. I had some hope, I think, that they might be sent out for testing, but it looked like I was going to have to do it for now, even if they were sent out later.

I stood there, eating some of it, with some distaste and worry. I think she was going to feed some of it to the dogs, too, as well as the people at the dinner. I didn't want to have it served to other people without me at least trying it, to see if it was still good. I would rather it be me that was the Guinea pig instead of the others. I wasn't even really comfortable with serving it to the dogs.

Quite a bit of time passed, as I stood there with the plates of food, sometimes eating a little of it, sometimes talking to my mother, when she was there. She also held plates of food at times, but I think she was saving them for me, or just holding them until doing something else with them. We walked some into the side yard for a while, looking some in the direction of the front, as she talked about the food and the people coming. Sometimes we were in other parts of the yard, and sometimes I was alone. The sky seemed at least partially overcast. It had been afternoon, but as time passed it got closer to night.

We had been going to have something like a picnic, out in the back yard, the family and whatever friends were coming, but it seems to have been reconsidered, and we were actually going to eat inside now. I could see some people in the house already, members of the family, and some other people who had come. They were in the dining room, standing there, talking, not far from the table, which seemed to have been set up with food. My mother went back into the house, leaving the plates of strange food out. They were set near the fence on the west side, perhaps on the ground, though there may have been something there she put them on. There were quite a few of them. I looked at them for a while, from some distance away, considering.

Dream - The mall, the man in the devil mask, and the storm

On Saturday morning, November 20, 2010, in a period of sleep ending around 11:00 AM, I had a long dream in which I ended up at a large mall, apparently where the old Osco/Bashas' stores were, at 74th St. and McDowell Rd., then left and wandered off north, possibly to Plaza 777 where the radiator shop used to be, then I went back to the mall again. I was talking to some other people sometimes, at least some of them family members. It was afternoon, a pleasant temperature, mild, the sky clear but kind of a gray tone. I went back in the mall and was wandering around. Besides little shops, it had layers to go though. Some of the mall was to the right, like at Fashion Square, but I went to the left, and it seemed like I was going through layers of primarily the same store, to different departments, with walls between them. I also found some candy by little walls, in glass jars. I ate some of it and was looking for more.

I finally left, taking a heavy white plastic trophy I saw on a shelf by the free snacks. It was a statue of something, heavy and compact and styled, with just the suggestion of an animal form. Out in the parking lot I began to wonder if it was really free, and decided that it probably wasn't. I looked around it for a price tag. At or near the car, the gold 1989 Olds, I finally found a small white sticker with something written on it. I turned it up toward the sky to try to get more light on it, but the light was dim, it was late in the afternoon and the sky was somewhat overcast. A little sunlight came through, though. At first I thought the price was other things, then finally resolved it as $9.00. I decided that I had to take it back. I walked back in with it, hoping that no one would bother me about it. Some people frowned at me, and I eventually set it down somewhere, not where I got it.

I saw my sister, the oldest one, who was several years younger than me, and we walked through the mall together.

It was starting to get late and things getting ready to close. We went back toward the entrance. We passed some people from the store at a minor side entrance, doing a strange dance, one or two dressed in strange clothes and wearing strange lifelike almost devil-like masks, but without the horns, doing a strange acrobatic dance over a large broad mattress-like thing close to the floor, entertainment for the people. A woman showed up with the mask after a while and did some of the tumbles, but it was like they shared the same mask, that the other guy had taken it off while he was gone and then she emerged wearing it, though I think I eventually saw them together with masks on.

Approaching the main exit, I lost my sister and went back into the mall looking for her. I got to where it turned a corner, and there were other little stores, some of them selling food, but they were pulling down their roll-up covers over the fronts of the stores.

Going back, I passed the man with the devil mask and strange costume. He had his shoes off and his feet were covered with fake feet too. The mask was tight fitting and had no seams, and looked natural, though still somewhat rubbery. He had a reflective expression on his face, sitting and looking off into the distance to the right, toward the short exit, rubbing his foot. He talked very briefly. I moved on. Near the main exit, my sister came up behind me. She had been following me for a while, and seemed amused by it.

She had been for a while at a side room across the aisle, too, a place where food was served and also where everyone sang and played musical instruments. I could see them from here. I went over and went in for a while. The place had a tropical theme, which became more manifest deeper into it. At the other side of the room it blended into an outdoor area with plants and palm trees, and round concrete tables among shrubbery. Inside, everyone sat close together. I wandered outside for a while. There were worries and warnings about a storm approaching. It was still light outside, late afternoon, near sundown, still with some sunlight. A strange cloud was there to the southeast though, gray brown, boiling, churning at the edges, on the ground, wider at the top than the bottom, and with a flat top. It was coming this way, visibly so, though people didn't know if it would dissipate before it got here or not. People were running around, though, trying to get away. I kept looking back at it. Each time I looked it was moving this way, but didn't seem to get closer between looks. I wandered off to the southwest, into the parking lot. Large areas were flooding, with tall palm trees sometimes at a slant, sometimes with large areas of sodden mud over the parking lot and things. It had evidently gone through here already.

I went back inside and went over to the main exit. The various things lining it, little stores and various activities, had closed for the most part, and were covered up, but now they were starting to reopen, a late night thing. Things seemed more sinister. The man in the evil mask was back again. A place there was also offering odds at things, like odds on how TV shows would do, and odds on other minor things, and I thought about placing a bet, but wandered back to the main section and was trying to find the board/sign I saw with odds on it. Looking at it, I realized I had misunderstood what I had read before, and the odds weren't good. I decided not to do it. The man with the devil mask was going over a raised, long rectangular area with concrete edges, and a cloth placed over the middle. Underneath it were a series of crosswise rods and large beads. Before, when I was going to leave, he had been on a slanted one, like an escalator, with things in the middle that weren't moving but with bands on the edges moving down, with little rough things on them and around them, like tiny broken rocks. He had been cavorting in the middle and maybe singing. I had tried to grab onto and slide down one of the bands. As I made my way toward the direction of the exit, I saw him looking my way, not entirely happy at it.

It was night now, had been for a while, late, and I went out the exit to leave. It was cold, and the parking lot was covered by cold mud, with snow dusting it in places. Some areas just had a little mud, and some areas were very diluted, almost water, some just slightly dirty water, and some not much of that. It was daylight still then for a while. I went to the car. It was looking normal, but as I got there, or soon after I got there, it changed to a much smaller and lighter electric car, still with front wheel drive. Some other people were coming too to their cars. We passed by some tiny wooden guard shack type things, damaged by the storm, sometimes sitting at angles there between the rows of cars, wet inside. I walked through one and out the other side, wondering a bit if someone would object. The others seemed more afraid to do that. I got to my car, which turned out to have my mother's purse there on a small white table behind the passenger door. I guessed I must have left it outside the car. I was glad no one had taken it.

I got in and drove, not toward the exit at 74th St., but down the row toward the north, then toward the east and into another row going back south, where conditions were much worse, heavy mud covered the pavement. A delivery type truck was backing out down the row ahead of me. It slowly backed out, but there was some kind of trouble, and it finally got going and moved away. There was another big truck on its side at an angle, that I had to go around. In the dream I didn't know why I came back there, it was a lot harder to get through and more dangerous. The small car with front wheel drive that I was in, though, pulled through and over the mud.

I got to the front, by the mall, and turned to the west, toward 74th. Other cars were going out through the exit near the intersection, across from the bank. I didn't like that though. I thought it was too close to the intersection, too hard to get out, although it had a traffic light. However, there didn't seem to be one earlier, and at times, and I tried to go to the south, to another large exit, further away from the intersection. People on the walk around the mall were calling out to me, not to do it, it was too dangerous. It was fully night now, late. I tried to go south, but ran into increasingly heavier, deeper mud, and there was also worry that I might heading into the storm, that it would come through here. I turned around and went back. A little Mexican-type kid, possibly part Indian, had been following me, a little girl. She was associated with someone, a couple of people mainly, but had been following me, and I agreed to let her go along. The car was so tiny now, that she was riding on the back. It was rainy and cool, even chilly. The car seemed to be a two seater with a small wooden platform on the back, even some wood rails going along the sides, and a very short front.

I waited at the light for a while. It turned red just as I got there. Across the street, there was just the sidewalk with landscaping along it. Everything was wet and cold, and rain was softly falling. Water was running in the gutter in front of me, and it was a sharp short slope to the street. I couldn't see the traffic light from here. I had to lean forward and tilt my head to look up, then I could see a tiny curved dark metal tube coming down from it, with the end glowing the color the light was. Off to the right was the intersection with its own traffic lights, and I thought it was going to be a long time to wait, to get them both coordinated properly. There was only a very short wait, though, before I saw the light in the tube above me turn to green, and I pulled out into the street, going south, the girl happily riding along with me, and sometimes running beside me holding on. I had no idea really what I was going to do with her, whether I could drop her off at her house somewhere along the way, maybe on a small side trip, or at somebody else's house along the way, or just a a place where she could make it home from or be picked up from, an intersection in the neighborhood, or if I even had to take her to my house for a while. Her parents seemed to approve her going along with me though, so I guessed it was alright, whatever was going to happen.

Dream - I almost die and find I can't talk anymore, but when the paramedics come I try to get them to look at my grandmother

On Wednesday, October 27, 2010, around 4:30-7:00 PM, I dreamed of almost dying. After some time spent somewhere doing something, generally associated with my house but sometimes somewhere else, I went to a place that was something like my house and something like my sister's, but much larger than either of them. It was a one story house with huge open rooms, with a railing that enclosed a central area that was apparently a lower part of the house, below ground level. I started talking to my sister, who was at a small glass table, round I think, near the railing, arguing a bit with her. My mother was perhaps ten feet or so off. My sister said something and I said something back, in a low voice, irritated, saying "What do you care what other people think," and then something else attached to it, maybe ten or so words. Then she said something, and I leaned over on the table, my arms and elbows on it, my head low, and was saying, approximately, in a low voice, almost a hiss, "You know, the thing I was saying before, the first part of it, 'What ...'"

I was trying to say "'What do you care what other people think?' was said by Richard Feynman to someone associated with the space shuttle disaster, during the investigation about it," but I found I couldn't. After the "What", which I had difficulty getting out, and trailed off after the "W", into a kind of breathy sound, the following words I couldn't get the consonants out for. I tried to say "do" and some of the other words, but they were all breathy sounds. My mouth was formed to say them, but they just came out as slightly different breathy slow rushes of air. My head was almost on the table. I was trying to explain the problem then too, but still couldn't say anything, just the breathy rushes of air through a mouth that was formed for the words but couldn't say any consonants, or even any vowels really. My sister was staring at me, frowning a little.

Then I was on the floor, slid off the table and slowly settled on the floor, laying there. I got turned over to face up. I may have done it or maybe other people did, I'm not sure. I looked up and saw my sister and some of her friends, bent down a little, staring down at me. Everything had changed to gray, they were dark gray figures on a lighter gray background, still clearly seen though looking 2-dimensional and flat. I reached my arms out straight up into the air, trying to grasp something and somehow pull myself up, though nothing was there, and the arms, pale and gray-colored, stretched out an enormous distance, maybe six feet, fading a little toward the end of them, even becoming a little transparent.

I was picked up and moved to a different room. The rooms were mostly open, though, frequently with room-sized openings between them. I was taken to a couch I think, or maybe a very large soft chair, which was at right angles to a couch where my grandmother lay on her side, facing out, legs bent a little. Behind her on the couch was a huge mound of clothes, along behind her and up beyond her head, loose clothes that were just thrown there, and more over them, it was a huge mound that went up onto the back of the couch, and all along behind her and past her head, occupying the couch area there. As it went along her and beyond her and around the top of her head, it formed a cliff that partly overhung her head and body, and I was worried about her, that it might fall onto her.

I couldn't get it straight in my mind for a while whether she was dead or alive, and after going back and forth in my mind about it I finally decided she was alive, that she had been dead for a while but came back to life, and should have some medical attention. The paramedics had been called for me, and were coming, and I think even arrived at some point, and though they were gathered around me weren't doing much. One or more people were talking on phones, maybe one of them too, though I think my sister was also on her cell phone. I kept trying to tell them about my grandmother, that they should do something because the clothes might fall on her, and also that she should be looked at, have her checked medically, that they should tell the medical people about her, but I couldn't say anything. I finally felt better enough that I was able to move over to her, crawl over from one piece of furniture to another, and partly hold her. I was starting to be able to make more definite sounds now, instead of just breathy noises, but still couldn't form words.

Dream - After a final fight with some monsters, I fly away, dying, over the great water

On Saturday, September 11, 2010, around 6:30-9:30 PM, I had a dream in which my mother removed most of the furniture in the living room, and tried to throw a lot of things away. I was upset by it. At some point neighbors tried to get into the house.

Then, later, I floated in the air. I dived out over a cliff behind the house, and flew to the ground, several times. Somewhere beyond the cliff was a lake, but most of the area was just desert.

Inside the house, I met a guru, some kind of monk. He asked about the flying and I explained it to him, and how it got harder to stay up the longer I tried to do it. He had a constant smile, and nodded and said I was very advanced. I demonstrated flying some, pulling my legs up, one more than the other and then finally both, and hovered around in the air.

My family and others were at home. I wanted to demonstrate it to them, and went out back and ran and jumped off the cliff, while they were concernedly running after me. I flew off and went low and landed in the desert. It was night now. It was just getting toward night as I leaped off the cliff.

I went quickly forward then, going sideways from the area of the house, laying on my stomach, my hands, enlarged, digging deep into the desert floor like claws, rapidly pulling me forward. The furrows I made were glowing pale. Other things seemed to have a pale glow, too. My legs weren't doing much, but seemed muscular. I wondered to myself if I had done anything to them, injured them in some way.

Some strange creatures tried to get me, including something like a large owl, and something vaguely wolf-like. They all had a strange, pale glow about them. I managed to get away, though some of the things clung to me for a while, their jaws or bills hanging on, before I got loose. I managed to fly away a bit.

It was day now. A neighbor woman captured me, and tried to hurt me. She had a plastic baby, and tried to make it seem like I was trying to attack her, and trying to hurt the baby, to get me in trouble with the police, who she had apparently called or planned to call, or have someone overhearing her yell call. She put me in chains with a friend, who she had already captured I think, and tried to shove us out the window, but she and her friend were also with chains around them, part of our chains, and she couldn't get rid of us. We got away, wiggled out of the chains and out the window, which we were already half through.

She got me again, and tried to kill me, planting fly bot larva in a cut she made on me. I got the rod she cut me with and poked her in her arm, tearing a huge chunk out of the inside of her upper arm, and then poked her through the arm again. The end of the short rod had splayed metal, cutting a big hole, but making it hard to push through. She kept trying to push me over the low wall of the large balcony room. I was mostly on the floor, pushing up at her, and poked her hard in the lower stomach with the rod, but she kept at it. Most people would have stopped by now, backed away, but, surprisingly, she didn't act like she was much affected. I pushed harder, pushing the rod deeply in, hating to do it, afraid I was really hurting her, maybe even enough to kill her. Initially she kept fighting me, like what I had done still wasn't enough to matter. I didn't see how that could be, and how she managed to keep on going like that. It was really worrisome, and I hated to do any more, and was afraid that I might have to. She finally stopped and backed off, and went away behind some things, still talking and complaining. She was saying now that the rod went in really deep, with a little bit of awe, sounding like she might be considering calling a doctor, then she cried out that she peed her pants, and started raging against me. I could dimly see some other women, friends of hers, at the edges of the room, looking toward her, dismayed looks on their faces. They had been too intimidated to join in the fight, but I figured they might now come to her aid, and maybe get her medical attention.

I escaped, over the balcony, floating through the air to a lower doorway. It was getting late now, almost night. I disguised myself some, and met with some friends, out in the open, away from things. After some discussion, I decided to try to find out some information about the woman from her friends, what had happened to her I guess. I went over to a group of them, but they started to realize who we were. Someone called out that they had seen us before, "Isn't that..." We had to run away.

A man chased us, ran after us, a bad man, but we got away. We were inside a building now, I think, a very large one, perhaps the one from before, I'm not sure. We went toward the front. We met some nurses, and warned them about the man. It turned out they had met him before, and knew about him. We went to the nurses station, but the man was already there. He was their boss. We got into a fight with him. He was on a dark desk facing us with several strong bad guys pressed hard against his back, some turned to the front and others turned to the back. He was arrogant, sure of his victory. I threw something at him. It seemed to go right through him and at least partway through the men behind him, but with only a temporary effect. I fought with him and things were not looking good, and there was a bit of a struggle. The man behind him took out a pen to try to stab us with, but the boss bent the man's arm around toward the floor, to show us his power and that he didn't care for anyone. He or a man directed by him grabbed another man in the groin, from behind, the white-gloved cartoony hand coming around like some awful face with eyes.

I somehow managed to run away, the others too. We met a nurse and warned her. I went into a series of ghostly metal partitions, reaching almost to the ceiling, open at the bottom, like some strange bathroom stall dividers, except that they had some odd projections at the edges. They were evidently part of a filing system. They didn't quite reach the wall at the back, but almost, with not really enough room to squeeze through. I started going underneath them, trying to hide there.

The bad man came, and his arm stretched forward toward me, elongating tremendously, while he talked. I pulled on it, dragging it after me, then left it and ran, hoping he would be trapped there for a while. Getting away for now, I talked with some other people. The police had been called. I was in an area that was a big room where children played and ate, and were taught things, while their parents were elsewhere, eating or shopping. The room was still full of kids.

I talked to the people some more. The man wasn't around, they didn't know where he was, but the situation was not good. He had spying devices, apparently including cameras. He knew or could know where I was. I was with a roomful of kids now, it wouldn't be good to have him follow me here. I went over to the window, on the other side of the room, and went out it, and along the side of the building, clinging to it and things on it, using my power to float to help keep me there. We were on the first story, but the ground was a little lower than the floor, and fell away from it, with landscaping, including objects.

I got around to the front and went back in. Most of the people were gone now, it was almost deserted. I went back to the room the children were in and it was empty.

I went back to the front, and was walking along an area that seemed to be something like the radiator shop, the part with the test tanks, where they worked on the radiators, when suddenly the man tried to get in through a low window. He burst through it, the front half of him through and on the floor. He was triumphantly talking to me, but in an almost desperate sort of way, like he had achieved his victory with great effort and great cost. He had a large white cloth bag that he dumped open in front of me, hurling the contents my way as he did so.

Some strange animals came out, along with a dense assortment of bugs, that looked like tiny red crabs and pale shrimp, and maybe a few other things, along with a lot of thin red liquid. They landed on the floor a few feet in front of him, and several feet from me. I was holding a bunch of metal cables, that I had flailed at him earlier, back at the tall metal dividers. I started smashing at the bugs with them. The animals, small in size but fiercely growling, generally red with large pale eyes, slunk off. The man said that the bugs and animals had all been infected with a strange parasitic disease, that he wanted to infect us all with, something that he had to go all the way to Africa to get. He wanted to kill us all. A small Asian monk came in from my left and bent over to look at the bugs. I was smashing them with a cable, and warned him not to touch them, and told him he had to kill them. He backed off and then started hitting them with something.

As I smashed the bugs, some drops of red liquid got on me, and on him too. I hoped I was not going to get infected. I had to wash it off soon. I finally left, to let the monk carry on with it. The bad man was still there on the floor, halfway in the building. I wondered if he had already been infected, that he had gotten that way while collecting the animals and bugs. As I went back along the front part of the building, the direction the monk came from, the building was mainly empty, but I saw an occasional nurse. Large pillars were in place every little bit, and a reception desk was back by the wall, facing the general area of the entrance.

Suddenly other, larger animals tried to attack me. He must have secretly left them here earlier, to wait for me, before he broke through the window. Some of them actually bit me. Some of them had their strange pale eyes protruding and blending back into their red fur, like strange cooked egg whites, soft cooked.

I tried to warn a nurse to get away and warn people, but though she seemed to be struggling with an animal herself, she looked toward me and grinned evilly. She was working for him, I realized.

The animals were after me. I turned toward the front, heading for a window. I put my hand forward. It was hard to see, like things were getting enveloped in a pale fog. I found the window pane. It was thin plastic, and already had a broken place in the middle, where the plastic was split by something. I stuck my hand through it, pushing through. The broken area was only 5 to 8 inches. The animals were on all sides, barking and growling and snapping at me. My brain felt in a bit of a fog, too. I pushed at the plastic pane, crashed into it, forcing my body through it, splitting it open a lot more, squeezing through it.

I went out into the night, and soared out over the vast stone steps. The place seemed to be empty. There were a few cars out on the roads, away from the building, but not many. There was a vast sloping landscaped area, separated by white stucco walls, and parking lots, that still seemed to have a lot of cars in them. I went out high over everything, into the cool night, gradually getting lower as I went. I was heading toward the side of an overpass now, with water rushing under it, and crashing against the overpass with white foam. I was too low, I would hit the overpass, maybe even go into the water at its base. I remembered telling the guru monk earlier, about how I tended to get lower as I went, and him smiling at me, his constant smile, with a knowing look, and I inhaled deeply, seeming to become more buoyant as I did so, and that and with the will of my mind rose upward, and over the top of the overpass.

I soared out high over the landscape below, which became filled with channels of rushing, foaming water, separated by walls, a whole network of it. I was feeling bad, sick. I looked down sadly at it, and at the vast expanse of water beyond, that they ran roughly parallel to, though at various tilts along the way. I heard a voice in the air, from somewhere, high above and a little behind me, gently reminding me about depression. I wasn't sure who the voice was, but it seemed to be afraid that I would give up and throw myself into the rushing waters. I had intended to get to the UN and warn them, I think, but sadly thought that I might not be able to make it now.

I looked out at the last part of the rushing channels of water, and the great water beyond them, wondering where a safe place to land might be, and whether I would be forced to come down into the water, either the water channels or the great water beyond them, a lake or inlet of the ocean, because I wouldn't be able to go any further, or whether I would make it past them, to some place off to the side, to the right, and beyond.