homemade rocketeer gear for pillow, elves and a monorail

Standard

I was in a basement that resembled the WWII bomb shelter of a basement we had in Germany, this ugly neon-lit white concrete cave with lumpy walls and some furniture here and there. People kept coming through and I was lying on a couch, trying to sleep. Perhaps there was a party upstairs? I get the impression now that some of them at least were older versions of kids I knew in Germany. One that I did recognize at the time was Lars. He came down all shirtless and sweaty and gross. I was curious about how his online dating experience was going and how things went with that girl he had dated, but I don’t think I asked. I think it’s possible he had a kid with him, like he was maybe dating some woman who had kids.

But none of that is important, because suddenly I was on an adventure. Myself and some others were leaving, moving through some massive dark city that may have been entirely underground. We were carrying all our stuff, it felt as if we had just been camping or staying at a hotel, and we were making our way to a car or train station or something on foot. Unfortunately we were also leaving because we were being forced out, perhaps by the law. Someone dropped some of our baggage over the side of a walkway. One of the things was my pillow; I recognized the striped pattern of the pillowcase from five floors above.

It had fallen down a square-shaped shaft that was sort of like a courtyard for the structure that we were walking through along the walkways above. Though it was dark where we were, the courtyard was lit with an orange light. There were people there doing things, and wagons strewn about. The ground/floor was covered in straw. It had the feel of the floor of a coliseum, with us as the audience above, but also like a medieval bazaar.

I wasn’t willing to just leave my pillow there. I needed it to sleep! So once we got to the other end of the walkway I asked my fellow travelers and a few bystanders for the materials I would need to assemble something amazing: A flight suit. The suit itself was basically a cape made out of a blanket and a lighter taped to some sort of spray bottle filled with flammable liquid. I would use this suit to glide downwards, using the flame bottle to provide thrust to slow my descent, and later to power my ascent.

I don’t actually remember how that went. Probably it was rad, like Rocketeer II, only playing in select theaters IN MY BRAIN.

The next segment we were running along some massive monorail tracks in the woods. Maybe we were riding the monorail train, maybe we weren’t, but it was stopped now and we were still trying to make it to wherever we were going. We spotted a bear off in the distance, towards the back of the train. We went to a part of the track that touched the ground and climbed up to a section where the cart was held twenty feet or so above the ground. The bear, it turned out, was the least of our worries.

Deer and big cats also took refuge up there. This is because the elves were coming. I saw them. They were a type of elf I don’t know if I’ve heard of, but I recognized instantly in the dream. They had a sort of pale blue skin and varied greatly in sizes. A fat old elf woman, who was also a giantess about thrice as tall as the next tallest elf, approached and attempted, in an extremely condescending and blatantly dishonest way, to convince me to aid her and her people, that their goal was completely benign etc. I didn’t fall for it but I played along, cuz that’s the smart thing to do in this sort of situation.

I vaguely think that there was a point where I was in a nearby hut carved out of the trunk of a massive tree, or maybe a tent, with all kinds of alchemical ingredients and devices on tables and shelves and hanging from walls, and fighting the largest male of the group of elves, or being chased around by him, as part of some sort of duel I had no hope of winning.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s