January 31, 2006

Huge Sky

Two years I’ve lived in my current residence. Finally, almost on the eve of signing the deal for the new apartment, I spoke to the ghost of 234 6th street via my dreams.

And the ghost is an overweight, black, teenage girl.

My ghost, she’s playful. She’s not malevolent or spooky. She likes to knock on the floor and drop things in the bathtub. Until last night I had no mental image of her living self. And I said her name to Bryce in the dream. I can’t remember it. It’s so frustrating. I think it’s a “K” name, Katherine? But I’m not certain.

Here’s the dream:

Bryce and I are preparing to move. We have cardboard boxes out, piles of books and folded clothing. We’re not in our current apartment though. It is our apartment in the dream realm, however it’s not the home we share together in the material world.

I remember dark green on the walls.

I turn to Bryce and say “Are we bringing her with us?”

Bryce folds a white shirt and puts it into a box and replies, “I don’t think we have the room…” He trails off as though she’s listening.

We look at a floor plan for our new apartment, however it’s not the floor plan we’ve so meticulously poured over for the past three weeks. Instead there is a dominant dining room on this layout.

Bryce says, “She’d have to sleep here, in the dining room.”

The door slams and I realize she’s left the apartment. She was eavesdropping on our conversation. I follow. Suddenly, instead of a four floor walk up, we’re living in a field. There’s tall grass. Our home is one several identical white houses. They are in a straight line, all white washed. And she’s walking away from me, upset. The sky is huge.

And she’s a chubby teenage girl, dark skinned and wearing white. I’m hesitant to say she’s wearing colonial or plantation garb, because I don’t know how much of the dream has been influenced by what I think I must have dreamt, but that notion stands out.

And in the dream I’m fairly relieved she heard us talking. It saves the trouble of me having to confront her directly. I can tell she’s very hurt and worried.

Then I see her turn around. She’s returning to the house. I reenter and tell Bryce. He says to go into the backyard. He is still packing boxes. The apartment now is arranged like our current one with two doors on either side. I exit into the backyard and it’s sunset.

And then the alarm woke me up.


Chef Ron said...

Wow! I think you should do a goodbye ritual to honor her spirit, it would soothe her pain as i am sure she enjoyed having you in her space.

Foxy said...

Your ghost sounds a lot like me. Okay, it was me. But it wasn't plantation garb, darling, it was my costume from a community theatre production of Once On This Island. You know nothing about fasion.

Foxy said...

There's an "h" missing in the previous. I hate myself.

Gayest Neil said...

Oh. I thut you wuz been ubonical

bryce said...

I think that ghost girl sat on my face in the middle of the night...oh wait...that was just that HIDEOUS Colin Farrell video that I was dreaming about.

Foxy said...

Nope. Again, that was me.