I had an interesting dream last night.
I had arrived at an Airbnb, where I expected to stay for a few days. The house was lived in, I could see that much, and I soon understood that I would not be staying there alone. At first there was only one other, an unctuous man of about my age, old to most humans on the earth today.
Two others showed up, at least one of them a woman, and all of them some sort of family. I noticed that the house was quite dirty. I noticed that I was expected to behave as a member of their family. Red flags started going up, and soon I became quite alarmed that I had been trapped. I kept up the appearance that I was both at home and happy to be there, while I desperately planned my elaborate escape.
That’s when the party started. Suddenly we were all rejoicing for some reason, something having to do with a giant cookie that I had imperfectly decorated. I had a revelation of sorts, in that I recognized that my prior extreme fear of these people, and my feeling of being trapped in their home, were both false. These were good people among whom I now felt perfectly safe.
I wonder if this dream had anything to do with the short poem I wrote a few hours later (while listening to the oracle girl, so really she wrote it):
once you see through
clouds of your own illusions
the hard work is over
Not a bad haiku, if I do say so myself
This is my entry to @mariannewest's daily freewrite challenge. Today's prompt is flat. Several meanings of the word "flat" flashed through my mind before I even started writing, but the last of those was "flat earthers."
