Dream Journal
I was sitting in Ninilchick with the new school choir instructor for the peninsula. Dad was going to run against him in the election. There were signs all around town asking people to donate to the new guy. After talking with Dad about his wanting to run against the man, I ran back to Mom and asked how I could donate to their campaign. She told me he was sitting in the principal’s office, and I could just go give him some money.
I didn’t want to meet him, so I sat down. I couldn’t remember if I had any cash on me. I sat with Mom and Jen, talking about the new instructor and his family. Jen had asked them if they had any arrangements for their vehicles, and he asked her, “What vehicles?” I asked Jen where they were from, and she told me Central Park. She had explained about four-wheelers and snow machines and trucks and trailers and they had gotten very excited. They had never driven before.
I was standing on the boardwalk looking out over a little cove on a sunny and warm afternoon. The kids down on the beach had been given a miniature monster truck to drive around. Their playing got a little out of control, and the truck flew into the water and flipped over. The wheels were so large that the truck was still drivable upside down. I worried the kids would be stuck in the cab upside down, and was glad they were buckled in.
A woman, nearly naked, stepped onto the boardwalk with me. Her grandson came behind her and she hastily covered herself, but I knew that she secretly wanted to seduce him. She moved over to the railing and posed so that her breasts showed through the grass skirt she had pulled up to her armpits.
Looking out over the water, she grabbed her left breast with her left hand and pretended to absently play with herself, pulling her long breasts far away from her body. Her face looked young and her hair a curly red, like Laurie from Trading Spaces. She looked much too young to be a grandmother. But her body looked old, her breasts pendulous and saggy.
The woman’s grandson ignored her, watching the kinds in their new monster truck. I jumped over the railing and into the water, uncomfortable with the woman trying to seduce her own grandson. I waded through the water around a small point where I discovered a beautiful waterfall. The spray from the waterfall felt wonderful and I stepped right into it, letting the powerful water rush over me.
Then I was having sex with Steve, but he had a vagina. I rubbed his clitoris and knew that he wanted me to put a finger in his anus, but I didn’t want to. A very light pink, glistening thing unfolded itself from his anus and beckoned to me like a finger. I was disgusted, but knew I just had to get it over with.
I got up and walked outside, still naked. I saw signs about sexually treating 3-, 4-, and 5-year-olds. I was upset about the pedophilia until I saw a man with his pet rabbit; I realized that the signs were about rabbits, not children. The man was shocked to see me naked. I headed back to my rabbit hutch and climbed in, hoping the man wouldn’t follow but knew that he would. I lied down next to Steve and tried to cover myself as much as possible.
Steve asked me what I did with B’s sunglasses. They were in my purse. Steve told me that I have to throw them away but I didn’t want to.
Steve, B, and I went into a hotel room together. There was a huge pot of beans and whole potatoes cooking on the stove. B helped me move the heavy pot, and I wondered how he would take it if I kissed him on the cheek. He goes into the bathroom and I lied down on one of the two beds, curled into a fetal position on my left side.
Steve lied down on top of the covers facing me, but I don’t straighten my legs, instead I kept my knees between us. Steve told me again that I had to throw away B’s sunglasses. They were the ones I gave him as a Christmas present one year with the interchangeable lenses. Steve told me how important it is and why I needed to throw them away, but I was feeling depressed and didn’t want to get out of bed.
B came back in and started to scoop out the bean & potato soup. I jumped up and told him to stop, remembering that I hadn’t seasoned it at all, not even with any salt. I made him pour it all back into the over — the soup was no longer in its pot, but was just sitting in the bottom of the oven.
There wasn’t as much soup as I had remembered, and I wasn’t sure how much salt to add. The potatoes were still whole, but soft. The soup wasn’t very hot. I wondered how I was going to get it out of the oven.
In the changing room of a thrift store were six bathroom stalls. One of the stalls was very clean. I sat down on the toilet to urinate, but the bowl was cracked down the middle so that when I put my weight on it, the bowl collapsed and I fell onto the dirty floor.
The other stalls were very dirty, but I kept checking one stall after the other just in case I missed one. I really needed to pee, but was still holding a pile of thrifted clothes in my hands and I didn’t know where to put them.
Themes: Toilet