Last night's dream: v. good.
I was supposed to be in some sunny Southern U.S. city, but it was actually London. Inside the walls of The Tower, some strangers saw me oggling the gate Elizabeth I had been brought through for her 'stay' there; we decided to build a raft and somehow the gate was up, so some of us were squealing with delight and clapping our hands like village idiots as we, um, rafted beneath.
Then there were astronauts. Naturally. We were having martinis in this bar and laughing how it was really too sunny out to be starting so early, but decided we were celebrating the sun, as we looked out this immense window. Then we started to slowly move through the streets and the rather Rat Pack-y astronauts were glancing at one another, amused. I was all, "How's this happening?" but didn't really CARE. Then I started seeing waterways and covered foot bridges, and then the Bridge of Sighs and realized we were in Venice...but then they told me we were actually in a rocket and that's how we were moving through everything. (Makes perfect sense.) Did I want to go up into space with them? Wouldn't it be a hoot? Oh, I suppose we are already in the rocket! Let's!
Only after our return did I remember that the last launching had ended with the previous female astronaut's death. We'd made it back fine, though.
And sneeze. Awake.
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1 comment:
That is a good dream.
I want to salute the sun with martinis.
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