I had a dream last night....
Tue, Sep. 23rd, 2003 07:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scarlettinaI was at the Seattle waterfront close to Agua Verde restaurant in the University District. In the dream, it was a far busier waterfront than it is in real life, with white lights strung along the docks, much more foot traffic than usual, and souvenir shops hawking postcards and trinkets to tourists.
From off on the left a ship began to pull into the docking area towing a steampunkish-looking vessel, very Jules Verne with its long, swoopy lines and waterwheel propulsion. Someone behind me whispered “That’s the Undersea Colony, lost at sea 90 years ago.” It looked brand new, shiny and in perfect working condition. Windows lined the side of the vessel, and through them I could see people peeking out.
As the vessel was docked, its top and sides very organically split open to reveal the passengers. Their seats were pushed as closely together as chocolates in a box from Godiva. They had low backs and were lined with red velvet and lace trim. The passengers were all very old, and dressed in clothes circa 1900, and they all reacted to the opening of the vessel as if they were waking from a dream. The person behind me whispered “See the wheels? It was intended to travel along the ocean floor.”
I went over to the ladies in the rear-most seats and gave them a hand up out of the ship. As they debarked, they seemed to get a little younger, and they started to look around.
“You’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” I told them.
“So much power,” one of the women said. “Look at all the lights.”
“Have you ever been to New York City?” I asked her.
“Oh yes,” she said.
“Wait until you see Times Square,” I told her with a smile.
She went over to one of the souvenir shops and started looking at a postcard spinner. I reached into my purse and pulled out my business card case.
“If you need anything,” I told her companion, “I’d like very much to help.” I gave her my card...and then woke up.
From off on the left a ship began to pull into the docking area towing a steampunkish-looking vessel, very Jules Verne with its long, swoopy lines and waterwheel propulsion. Someone behind me whispered “That’s the Undersea Colony, lost at sea 90 years ago.” It looked brand new, shiny and in perfect working condition. Windows lined the side of the vessel, and through them I could see people peeking out.
As the vessel was docked, its top and sides very organically split open to reveal the passengers. Their seats were pushed as closely together as chocolates in a box from Godiva. They had low backs and were lined with red velvet and lace trim. The passengers were all very old, and dressed in clothes circa 1900, and they all reacted to the opening of the vessel as if they were waking from a dream. The person behind me whispered “See the wheels? It was intended to travel along the ocean floor.”
I went over to the ladies in the rear-most seats and gave them a hand up out of the ship. As they debarked, they seemed to get a little younger, and they started to look around.
“You’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” I told them.
“So much power,” one of the women said. “Look at all the lights.”
“Have you ever been to New York City?” I asked her.
“Oh yes,” she said.
“Wait until you see Times Square,” I told her with a smile.
She went over to one of the souvenir shops and started looking at a postcard spinner. I reached into my purse and pulled out my business card case.
“If you need anything,” I told her companion, “I’d like very much to help.” I gave her my card...and then woke up.
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no subject
Date: Tue, Sep. 23rd, 2003 02:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Wed, Sep. 24th, 2003 09:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Sat, Sep. 27th, 2003 06:56 pm (UTC)Sounds like a good dream to have. I've been plagued with occasional unpleasant ones early in the morning so I've been trying to get to sleep earlier so I'll get more rest in case a bad one hits. Trust me, I understand *exactly* how Miles V. feels in one of Bujold's books when he's given drugs that allow him to remember what he dreams and he's not thrilled about it. The bad ones involve silly things like spilling soup, and the worse ones are something out of Lovecraft. Falling asleep with the light on seems to bring on the worst ones, so I try to remember to turn it out when I'm settling in.
My worst dreams...
Date: Mon, Sep. 29th, 2003 09:55 am (UTC)