A couple of weeks ago I dreamed I lived in a snug little apartment down many dark, winding corridors, in an old, old building. I discovered that management had decided to renovate while I was out for the day, because I started finding new toilets installed in weird places. Like the middle of the dining nook. Also, the kitchen started turning bright yellow, a wall of paint or wallpaper, half a floor of tile, or a bank of cabinets a day. And I mean BRIGHT yellow. And not even the same yellow. The wallpaper was a dandelion sort of yellow with a pale bright green and gold bamboo pattern. The tile was a buttery golden yellow with a florescent chartreuse design. The cabinets were dark goldenrod, and the painted walls were done in sunflowers. Then a brightly polished gold tuba showed up in one corner, standing on its bell, for decoration.
A couple of nights ago I dreamed that my friends and I went out to see a show. It was Phantom of the Opera, but instead of being a musical by Andrew Lloyd Weber, it was a Wagnerian opera and Russian ballet, all in one. With full scale pirate ships.
Last night I dreamed I had a baby. When he was about six months old, the strangest thing started to happen. When he got stressed or upset, he'd jump in time and place. He'd disappear from where he was and appear somewhere else. Or he'd change from a six month old to a newborn or a fetus, or even an embryo. Or, worse, both, so that I'd be running all over the house trying to find a squirming, bloody, almost microscopic thing that I'd have to keep moist and sheltered and calm enough so that he'd return to normal. I had a dog that helped me find him when this happened. The worst was, sometimes I didn't have to find him. Sometimes I could feel that he'd relocated back inside me, which was painful, but not so bad as long as he was tiny. But I was always afraid he'd either grow back while still in me, or pop inside me at normal size, and then we'd probably both die. But I woke up before that happened.
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