And speaking of dreams -- ‘cause, you know, that is what I was blathering on about in that last entry -- yesterday morning, I found myself awake in the wee hours, thinking (for reasons unknown) about a classic, deeply creepy episode of Dr. Who. Images of weeping angels, individuals thrown back in time against their will with no way to return to where they should be. With no idea why my thoughts were embroiled in all that. Fell back asleep, and from then on drifted back and forth between sleep and a half-awake state, dreaming about weeping angels, about being trapped in times I didn't belong in. Two or three hours of that, until I came to, a quiet, beautiful morning taking shape outside, me getting to my feet, shaking off nocturnal creepiness.
Then this morning: me awake early once more, this time thinking about spiders, with no idea why my teeny brain had fastened onto that subject. Drifted back off to sleep, spent two or three hours dreaming about, yes, spiders -- surfacing now and then, half-awake, dreams continuing as I floated in and out of sleep, never fully awake during the times of not being fully asleep. When I finally came to, I returned from a dream scene in which I examined a long white porcelain utility sink, its surfaces covered by webs, all spun by tiny spiders, lots and lots of them.
Got up, shook it off. Showered, shaved, pulled on gym duds. Stepped out of the building into a crisp morning, sunlight just beginning to show over the very tops of neighborhood buildings, local streets busy with rush-hour traffic, sidewalks alive with locals walking. Life everywhere, another day beginning in a city I love.
Not a bad waking life to escape to after hours of weeping angels and spiders.
España, te amo.
rws 3:53 PM [+]
Comments:
Post a Comment