Morphing Ships, Lost Clothes, and a Hapless Jerk

I am on a ship anchored just off-shore somewhere in Europe, through a porthole I can see the colorful houses of a coastal town.

I’m waiting for my brother to arrive, he has been traveling and is joining me me onboard this vessel. Night falls before he arrives. He comes on board carrying only a small black bag, he says that’s all he has, and all he needs.

As we walk back toward my cabin the ship changes, it begins to feel more like a floating town. There are open walkways between sections of the structure, and many of the walls have fallen away, leaving it open to the water below. This doesn’t seem alarming.

We arrive at my cabin, which is now open to outside, the hull is gone and there is a walkway or a beam about 6 feet out, paralleling my cabin. My brother chucks his bag toward a chair that is near the open area. He misses the chair and his bag falls to the water, about 30′ below. He says everything he owns is in the bag, but he doesn’t seem distressed. We wander through the vessel for some time, but his belongings are on my mind. Eventually we get back to the cabin, it’s now daylight. My brother is not really a water guy, he doesn’t swim to my knowledge. Nor do I with any sort of competence, but I convince him I should at least go take a look for his belongings. Somehow I arrive on the beam that is adjacent to my cabin. I look down at the turquoise water below and jump.

I’m wading though waist deep water on beautiful sand. There are metal structures all around, materials moving about through the water, cloth, bags, machinery, and there are people everywhere.  I see my brother’s bag drift by and I grab it. I feel it’s weight, it has several items in it. I put it over my shoulder, and find myself back in the cabin.

My brother is disinterested in the contents of the bag, and says what he really needs are the clothes that were in there, that still seem to be missing.

I jump from the beam again, but find myself walking on a metal walkway through low doorways. I pass through a doorway into the vestibule of what seems like a pub. There is an older man there with his wife. He notices me walk in starts making obnoxious comments, telling my all the off-color things he plans to do to me. His wife doesn’t take it well, grabs him and hauls him out of the pub area, past me, and onto the walk way.

I proceed into the poorly lit space and ask a few people if they have seen any clothes floating around in the water. I collect no useful information.

I leave the way I came in, along the walkway. As I exit the vestibule I see the old man that was mouthing off.  He is hanging from a metal beam by a rope that is tied around his chest.  His legs are missing, they look like they have been removed with some force at the waist. He’s still unpleasant, but much less threatening. As I stand and observe him with curiosity, he is mumbling away about getting his legs out of the rope, and is grotesquely trying to twist around his torso, as if to free it from the rope. I find it fascinating that he hasn’t noticed he could just use his hands and arms to free himself.

I wake up.

The Watchers

I’m in my home, though it’s no a place I’ve seen in my waking life. There are adults and children, two boys, who are my family, though I have never seen them in my waking life.

My high school friend Kathy comes over, I can’t determine if it is a planned visit or not. She has travelled to be here, and needs somewhere to sleep. There is nowhere in the home to put up a guest, but I tell her I have an apartment not far away.

We set out to the apartment, we walk there along a trail that I do remember from my childhood home. The trail follows the shoreline of a lake, and is slightly overgrown, but it is very familiar.

Soon we notice that the trail has turned into the interior of a building. The building has a surreal feeling to it, as though we are walking down a large hallway, with rooms on either side of us. There are no doors or walls on the rooms, and as we pass, the occupants look up from their activities to observe us. Some seem to expect our presence, some are indifferent, and some alarmed or even annoyed. We walk past bedrooms, dining rooms, and living rooms. I feel increasingly like we are intruding, and begin to look for a way out. I have not been able to locate my apartment, nothing looks familiar to me, a realization which alarms me. In time I notice that each room has a door on the far wall that looks like it leads to the outside.

Positioned in front of each door is a black device with brass trim that looks very similar to the coin operated binoculars you might find at a scenic viewpoint. Some of them are face out through the doors, others are looking inward and seem to be tracking us as we move along through the building.

I ask what they are, someone tells me they are Watchers, and we are not to look at them.

In the next moment, we are at the docks, similar as to what is portrayed in the movies about the time when the Irish immigrants arrived in New York; busy, dirty, confused, with Watchers positioned in various locations. We walk past a young man who gets shoved into a Watcher, and in a flash he is lifted up onto a stump that has appeared from nowhere, he has a burlap back with a strange, eerie face lightly printed on it, and a noose around his neck.

I wake up.

Nowhere to Hide

This is a dream from about  two years ago, before I underwent hypnotherapy. I’m sharing it because I remember it so vividly, and also because although it scared the crap out of me, i think the imagery in the beginning of the dream would make a fantastically weird but visually interesting photograph. 


I am running through a field, toward a house on the horizon. I’m fleeing from someone or something, I don’t know what. I’m running for my life.

Aa I get closer to the house, I realize with a sinking feeling that it has no walls, only studs, it’s still under construction. Still, it’s the only option for shelter. I continue toward it without slowing.

I reach the house and I’m frantically searching through it for somewhere to hide. There is nowhere, everything is exposed.

I look back out out across the fields from where I have just come.  There are now orderly rows of a crop, it looks like potatoes, forming diminishing lines toward the horizon.

Three white vans pull up along the side of the field, about 500m from the house.

Several men get out of each van, each dressed in a white hazmat suit with an old style gas mask on.

The men spread out across the field and start moving toward the house, approaching along the rows of potatoes

They are carrying weapons, or devices that I can’t quite make out.

My already heightened fear rises further.

I resume my frantic search for a place to hide as they near the house.

The men enter into the house through the door, through the unfinished walls, coming in like a terrifying wave of white,

As they enter the house, I try to move to the far back corner, staying as far from them as possible.

They move through the house slowly, with purpose, as though they are searching for something. Some of them look right at me, but don’t make any indication they see me.

I try to scream, no sound comes out

The men are getting so close I can see their eyes through the gas masks. They don’t seem to see me.

I’m frozen, not concealed but can’t move to run away.

The men move past me, exiting through the unfinished walls at the back of the house.

I wake up in a cold sweat.

Angry Pirate Crab

I am on some sort of summer camp trip, there seems to be a lot of us, staying in accommodations similar to a dormitory. The other campers are a combination of people I know from my childhood through to current coworkers, as well as strangers.

Scenes change regularly from the dorms, to a bus stop where a school bus is always sitting, to a Walmart-like department store, where it seems like people are engaged in a scavenger hunt or something similar.

It interests me that that every time I find myself at the bus stop, I notice that before I speak to anyone, I first start rubbing their back. It makes them visibly uncomfortable, but for some reason it is required.

Eventually I find myself in the water, looking back at a rugged coast line. There are bluffs, and lots of jagged rocks in the water. I have snorkeling gear on, and I am paddling through the water. I look up and notice some kids playing in a tidal pool, and pointing to a brightly colored star fish. I decide to go find a tidal pool myself and see some marine life, so I start paddling.

I realize I’m no longer in the water, it seems the tide has moved way out, but if I kick hard enough I’m flying over the dry rocks rather than paddling in the water.

I proceed this way until I do in fact come to a tidal pool that has a large, bright orange crab in it. The crab does not look very friendly, it has long tentacle-like appendages, and an angry face. It hisses and lunges at me, causing me to falter and I fall from the air onto a nearby rock. I’m busy sorting myself out after my rough landing, when I hear more hissing, and I see Merlin, my cat, swatting at the crab. I try to get her attention to chase her away, but as usual, she pays no attention. Next thing I know, the crab is on Merlin’s back, riding her like a pony. The tentacles have turned into dread locks, not at all unlike something from Pirates of the Caribbean. As I watch, Merlin turns into a tiny palomino pony, and the crab rides her away along the rocks.

Before I wake up, I find myself one more time at the bus stop, rubbing people’s backs inappropriately.


Silly-String Jellyfish and Bully Robots

I’m at a tiny rural airstrip, there is an overgrown grass runway on one side of a small two track dirt road, and a portable trailer on the other. There is a food truck covered with a tarp near the portable trailer. That seems to be why I’m there, to check on the food truck. As I approach, a small aircraft lands, taxies down the little airstrip, crosses the road and pulls up in front of the portable trailer. A man and a young boy get out, look at me, and then proceed into the trailer. I continue my work. At a point I look up and notice the airplane is on fire. I run to the trailer to alert the man, he seems very irritated to be disturbed, but he comes outside and puts out the fire, glaring at me periodically.

The next thing I recall is walking into the large airy dining room of what appears to a 3rd floor apartment. There is a party or gathering of some nature in progress, and I have the impression it’s my family, though I can’t actually see anyone’s faces. I enter with my boyfriend, and everyone seems happy to see us. The dining room has large glass doors that open onto a balcony overlooking the street below. I notice there is no railing on the balcony, and there are no railings on the balconies across the street either.

My boyfriend and I move to the back of the space, and we are observing the festivities in the room and on the balcony. People are starting to move toward the balcony, they have seen something that has surprised or delighted them. We look closer, and see pastel blue and pink translucent jellyfish floating up to the balcony. They are so strange, at first I think the neighbours must have some sort of cool bubble machine, but closer look shows the things are moving with purpose, changing direction, and appear to be pulsing with their movements. One hits the window, and it most certainly does look like a jellyfish.

They are starting to fill the air, and people are out on the balconies across the street looking at them as well. People in our party start venturing out onto the balcony, and I urge them to come back in and close the window. They either don’t hear me, or disregard my urging. As I watch, a little robot emerges from an apartment across the street onto the balcony across from us. He is about 4’ tall, sort of cute, shiny, with big eyes, and ducting type arms and legs. I’m thinking how charming he is, when he stops in the patio doorway across the street, and takes a big bite out of the doorframe. As I’m staring at him, trying to make sense of him, my attention is drawn to a sudden movement on a balcony a few doors down, where another robot has just reached out and shoved a person off the edge of the balcony. I see them fall to the street below.

I wake up.