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nap dream

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nap dream

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Lots of vivid dreams lately. I was cold this afternoon, and sleepy after lunch, so I got in bed and stayed there... and went travelling.

I was living in an alternate but connected world. I don't really know what the difference was; it wasn't directly magic or any clear alternate history; I just know it was different. You could travel between with stone items that were imbued with the power to switch places, or you could ride a bus that was driven by someone who had one, since they were expensive and rare.

I was working with a project to do really cool intellectual remakes of music videos or short films are the nearest analogues to the nonexistent product that was being remade. The people I worked with were wrapping up a project that I was really impressed with, both quality and cast, and there was a substantial break period which I spent lying on the floor near some other people, including one of the actors who looked like Viggo Mortensen and was kind of a jerk - there was an altercation between us but I don't remember it.

I had a (nonexistent, darn it) new Stephen King novel that I really wanted to read, and I was alternating between that and a letter with some old nostalgic photos that my mom had sent from home. Then my mom was there with me, and we were eating something with bones; then she sent the jerky guy to run an errand for her, to dispose of her plate of bones. He gave her and me a look, but did it anyway, and I couldn't decide whether to tell her that that was really inappropriate or to just be really amused.

She and I were driving then, and she decided to stop at a fast food restaurant (one I made up, no idea what kind of food there was). When we got close, we realized that the place wasn't really open, and there was an employee meeting going on inside. I was ready to go elsewhere, but Mom took off her outer shirt and underneath she was wearing a uniform shirt just like the restaurant workers - kind of a pukey orange with brownish green cords - not just stripes, they were visibly raised material - running up them vertically. Extremely damned ugly. This was really a surprise to me since she didn't work there and wasn't even from the same world. She went inside the restaurant and sat down with a group of employees, and immediately started blending in like a pro, as if she were a spy. I kept thinking she'd trip herself up and get us ejected, but they totally bought her as being one of them.

I was feeling very out of place, in a brown sweater with droopy, almost cowled sleeves (I don't know that I've ever noticed what I was wearing in a dream before, but it was most of what was making me feel out of place, so it makes sense). There were a few other family members of employees off to the sides, so I took a chair (seems odd, they are so often bolted to the floor in such places) over by the windows and got out my book and waited.

From this reading and what I'd done before Mom turned up, I was a good third of the way into it when the higher-up manager who was about to run the meeting came in and walked right up to me. It was Stephen King, and he wanted to know how I liked the book. I told him it was pretty good and I had a lot of his previous ones at home. He looked very bad - almost Gollumesque, with protruding ridges of flesh all around his eyes - but as often happens with deformities, it seemed normal to me in the dream. He seemed moderately pleased with my response, and went off to go prepare the meeting, which seemed to require some kitchen work.

My mother's table now also had several of her sisters at it too, and Mom asked me to go and get my Aunt Susan a drink. I was extremely dubious, but I went into the food prep area. Oddly they only had glass glasses shaped like Coke glasses, with the widened upper half that narrows at the top. They were plain, though, no product placement in THIS dream. I got one, and then I tried to call back to her to find out what she wanted, but it took three times to realize that she wanted a glass of milk. I knew that would be trouble as it's not as cheap as fountain drinks. Stephen King gave me a look, but I got her the drink.

It was time for Mom to go (no idea what actually happened at the meeting). I gave her one of the stone pieces that lets you travel and told her she could get a job driving one of the world-hopping buses if she wanted.

Seriously, unconscious, what the hell?
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