...
That was just the setting. There's plenty of room there to insert chunks of other locales to have the fullest possible rotten experience. I wasn't in my body, but I was me, going from a city block of San Francisco to a dressage horse training stable to farm field and greenhouse areas and fairly nondescript semi-developed semi-natural areas and a cheap motel room... and... more... but it's too fuzzy to describe.
I was very busy. I was trying to help someone. What I was helping with kept shifting, but the theme was mostly a sort of wimpy and clingy woman having had to leave her boyfriend and being this weird blend of vague and hysterical about it. But there was all kinds of more helping of everyone I came across all up and down the extent of that dreamscape.
It was half investigating and half helping. Half vexation and half optimistic. The awareness that I maybe should be feeling some dread, but I wasn't. I was warning the guy with the dressage horses that the stallion he had tied to the barn while he was riding another one, was fixing to tear down his barn, that maybe he should pay some attention. I was going up and down staircases.
Spots looked like old movies with people with their sleeves rolled up and working off in the periphery as I made my way from set to set. Men on tractors looking as though they were trying to conceal the menace in their hearts. Most everyone oblivious.
Until I found myself pinned on the cheap motel room bed by a guy who drugs underage girls and rapes them. He was bragging to me that, yes, they were all satanists, but somehow satanists used the implements of vampire killers to make more satanists and all had a distinct air of zombification about them on top of that. They only showed any pleased energy over despicable prospects.
So he was going to stab me with his silver shiv to deal with my beneficent intent once and for all, but I pulled out some similar implement and some invisible someone stabbed him with both implements, his and mine, the stabbing was very ethereal and I could almost feel it as though I were him, but mostly I was just leaving there, off and finding JF Sebastian, boyfriend of wimpy clingy woman, who looked alarmed that I was not killed or converted, but stayed at work at some satanist's task as I walked by on my way out of this nonsense.
At the exit of the farm we transition into a sort of chartreuse lit art deco foyer and I'm handing the woman a note that, yes, they're all satanists back there, including boyfriend, not to freak out but to just leave quietly. I'm doing this because there are about five women in togas lounging about there and I don't want to endanger the wimp, but she takes the note, reads it and laughs, falling in with the women in togas and they're all laughing delightedly.
This is the moment when I woke up. My spine was hurting and my head ached. It was only 3:30am, but I got up and had myself a nice little pile of powdered pure aspirin. Maybe now that I've gotten rid of the aches and had a couple cups of mud I can get back to sleep.
always and any time....
