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Aisling - Speech
May. 4th, 2021 07:51 amI was taking some students out for a mask break, near the school track, and a couple of them (Marcos and Breno) wanted to walk with a couple of friends on the track.
The track was not the usual red rubber coated oval surrounding the football field but in my dream had merged with the river trail a few yards further from the school, so it was a continuous loop but of beaten down soil surrounded by trees.
I was reluctant to allow the students to walk track; in rl we aren't permitted to use it for mask breaks because it is a public commodity and the community elders use it for exercise. Our students were crowding them out. That may be why I was uneasy in the dream, but I finally said okay and that I would catch them up. I should point out that the accepted travel around a track is widdershins which I find ... difficult in rl. It creeps me out to go the "wrong way" for one thing and for another - there's a slight upward angle that aggravates the difference in lengths of my legs.
When I stepped onto the track, there was a moment's disorientation, of darkness and confusion, and I felt a pressure that warned me not to speak. I began to walk and I did not recognize anything I saw. I met up with people who seemed to know me - but they weren't my students and I do not recognize now who they were. We got into an old, beaten-up looking car and took off.
We ended up in Edinburgh, Scotland - not that I recognized anything, but I knew it in the dream. Some famous theatre backer was having a big party and the people I was with (one was Peter Park from the Avengers movies by this time) decided to go. I was looking at the comics page and noticed a mention of the man's name with a "see page 4" comment - but page 4 was missing in the paper I had - and page 5 was a continuation of the obituary section.
The streets were only one car width wide, the buildings were very old and leaning on one another, every one of them a little different from its neighbour. We stopped in front of a huge old building - mansion sort of thing .... or maybe museum or theatre? ... and went in. There was an elegant party in progress - we weren't dressed for it, but they accepted us anyway. I was still not speaking, just watching as my companions enjoyed themselves.
The man giving the party ... the Laird ... welcomed us and set himself to entertaining us. Peter kept making up lies about his rich life in New York. I just stood there listening. After everyone left, some question about the movie Shrek came up, so Peter, the Laird and I ... and maybe a few others ... went up to the library to watch the opening scenes. The Laird and I were lounging together on a chaise longue. I would have been happy watching the entire movie, but Peter reminded me that our companions were waiting, so we made our excuses and goodbyes. The Laird gave me a commemoratory glass goblet - the stem of which was at an angle so that the base was not directly under the drinking part.
I thanked him for it.
I carried it down to my companions, showing it off, verbally gloating about how I had exactly the right box and packing materials in the car to take it safely home.
I never made it home. Before I woke up, several years had passed and I was with the Laird, unable to leave.
Because I spoke.
The track was not the usual red rubber coated oval surrounding the football field but in my dream had merged with the river trail a few yards further from the school, so it was a continuous loop but of beaten down soil surrounded by trees.
I was reluctant to allow the students to walk track; in rl we aren't permitted to use it for mask breaks because it is a public commodity and the community elders use it for exercise. Our students were crowding them out. That may be why I was uneasy in the dream, but I finally said okay and that I would catch them up. I should point out that the accepted travel around a track is widdershins which I find ... difficult in rl. It creeps me out to go the "wrong way" for one thing and for another - there's a slight upward angle that aggravates the difference in lengths of my legs.
When I stepped onto the track, there was a moment's disorientation, of darkness and confusion, and I felt a pressure that warned me not to speak. I began to walk and I did not recognize anything I saw. I met up with people who seemed to know me - but they weren't my students and I do not recognize now who they were. We got into an old, beaten-up looking car and took off.
We ended up in Edinburgh, Scotland - not that I recognized anything, but I knew it in the dream. Some famous theatre backer was having a big party and the people I was with (one was Peter Park from the Avengers movies by this time) decided to go. I was looking at the comics page and noticed a mention of the man's name with a "see page 4" comment - but page 4 was missing in the paper I had - and page 5 was a continuation of the obituary section.
The streets were only one car width wide, the buildings were very old and leaning on one another, every one of them a little different from its neighbour. We stopped in front of a huge old building - mansion sort of thing .... or maybe museum or theatre? ... and went in. There was an elegant party in progress - we weren't dressed for it, but they accepted us anyway. I was still not speaking, just watching as my companions enjoyed themselves.
The man giving the party ... the Laird ... welcomed us and set himself to entertaining us. Peter kept making up lies about his rich life in New York. I just stood there listening. After everyone left, some question about the movie Shrek came up, so Peter, the Laird and I ... and maybe a few others ... went up to the library to watch the opening scenes. The Laird and I were lounging together on a chaise longue. I would have been happy watching the entire movie, but Peter reminded me that our companions were waiting, so we made our excuses and goodbyes. The Laird gave me a commemoratory glass goblet - the stem of which was at an angle so that the base was not directly under the drinking part.
I thanked him for it.
I carried it down to my companions, showing it off, verbally gloating about how I had exactly the right box and packing materials in the car to take it safely home.
I never made it home. Before I woke up, several years had passed and I was with the Laird, unable to leave.
Because I spoke.
