It was a dark and.... wait....no, no, no.... it was a gray and chilly day that dawned over S. Indiana. The air nipped at the exposed skin of my face. No use swatting it away. O.k., where's the 70 degrees and sun I was promised?
I got to bed later but I slept later so I balanced out. Dreamed like crazy the last several nights and while you may say, "So what", dreaming is crucial to proper sleep. Last night's was particularly vivid.
An Explosive Getaway
I was in some sort of facility with half a dozen folks, two of them men. We couldn't get out and there were what looked like a couple of dozen cells along one wall. In the center of the room was a moat like structure with a big block "room" with a barred top in the middle of of this mote area. A man was inside and he couldn't get out. We were trying to escape.
I don't know where the dynamite came from or who set the charges. My impressions (its a dream remember) was the guy in the block room did it. Anyway, on the outer wall opposite the cells and mote area were all these red circles drawn at intervals along the wall, each about the size of a quarter. As I understand it, each point is where there's a charge just large enough to blow a small section without sending tons of cement block shards into the room. (No I've never blown anything up so, I don't really know but figured we'd find out). There were enough points that the whole wall would blow out.
We only had a few minutes left. This guy looked at his watch and said run, we did, hiding behind an area that was shielded by another wall. The thing blew and we headed through the opening and outside. My next concern was how this guy was getting out of the box but the instructions seemed to be every man or woman for themselves cause that's what I did.
Apparently this cell area is not easy to escape from by "window". I find myself hanging over a cliff, half dozen other people hanging on below me. I ask where ?? is. No I don't catch his name. But he was the second man in the group. Someone below me kind of pointed and I thought they meant he was in the body of water that ran below us along this cliff. I asked what was in it because it looked choked with dead weeds and was a coffee brown. Someone said, "It's a mote." I'm sure I probably rolled my eyes.
I was looking for a way down the cliff when the guy from the "box" appeared and, of course, he nimbly climbed down to the bottom and studied the problem. It was too far to jump. On the other side I realized was a sidewalk with a low wall running along mote side. Farther down I saw a bridge that joined the walkway and lead away from this "castle". Do not know where that term came from but that's what came to mind.
Our "hero" moved along the edge of the mote and we followed. I don't know how we all climbed down but probably the same way he did. He walked alone the edge of the mote and stopped where there was a concrete piling about halfway across the mote... within easy reach of a jump. A tiny dot in a sea of brown sludge. I did not relish falling into that and besides, we didn't know what else was in there.
Just like a deer he hopped to the piling, and then to the walk on the other side. He was smiling and saying, "Come on. It's easy." All I saw was an area about the size of a large dinner plate. I don't know what I did but I suspect it was something like staring at him and and saying, "Really?" The next thing I knew I had jumped and reached the sidewalk.
I woke up.
And this is always how I always got my ideas before I got sick.
Y'll have a nice day.
The journey of a widowed Southern lady stranded in the Mid-west surviving the
perils and pearls of grief, adult children, grandchildren, writing, retirement, and assorted crises.
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What a great dream!
ReplyDeleteMine usually involve trying to find something. Lately, no dreams at all--that I can remember, at least.
It does sound like a partial outline for a good action story!! I never, and I mean never, remember my dreams. I know I've had one, but I never remember it. Quite vivid! I'm glad you escaped and got to the sidewalk!
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