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Polymorphism

Yesterday the power went out about half an hour before work, and I…

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Yesterday the power went out about half an hour before work, and I lost the draft I was writing about the dream I'd had. I'll try and remember to write it later, it was a short and nifty one. However, the one I had last night was just epic in scope (especially considering some of the stupid-realism dreams I have on occasion). Not only that, but I dreamed all the way through the narrative sequence, and remembered it on waking, which is alse quite rare for me.

It began with me taking a trip with a group. Though everyone in the group was a cipher except for nekouken, they weren't strangers. If they had been fleshed-out dream people, we would have have relationships with each other - the closest real world analogue would be that we all belonged to a voluntary organization, and were taking a tour arranged by that organization. Perhaps I was a dream Shriner, or some kind of adults-only Kiwanis (that actually sounds kinda dirty, huh). I was my real current age, and we were travelling in a bus to my "alma mater" (which I put in quotes because it is fictional, and nothing like the college I actually attended).

When we arrived, we were escorted to our rooms by a monk - the tonsure kind, not the kung-fu badass kind. The trip through the dormitory was fairly grim. The monk was dour and reticent, and the building was in severe disrepair. We passed places that seemed unsafe, with the occasional gaping hole in the floor, and some other floorboards still there but unable to support weight, held in place by only one side, the other end hanging down at an angle into the rafter space below.

I was given a room with three other people. It was huge and in fine shape, but it was right at the edge of the real decay. It had classroom-style windows all along one wall - the kind that open at the bottom but then continue as windows up to the ceiling. Instead of looking on the outdoors, though, the view was into the inside of the vast expanse of rotting building, as if this room was at the start of a newer attachment that had been poorly joined up with the older building. Looking out, I could see hallways sloping down into pits of darkness and rooms with huge rectangular holes in the floors, as if the floorboards had given way exactly under twin beds and been sliced cleanly through in their precise shapes. Light still came into our room through the window, but the source was not daylight but light from inside the hulk of a building.

In this dream, I evidently had an inability to travel lightly. The trip was short, but I had brought a massive amount of clothing, enough to fill a closet, as well as furniture, housewares and decorations. I put some things hanging down in front of the window to distract from the view, but they did not block even a quarter of it.

The timeline of the trip is unclear; it seemed much longer than an overnight, but there aren't enough events to last a week; I may have forgotten some, or there may have been a gap in the storyline and I jumped to the end, because it came time to pack. Since I had brought so much, I started my packing earlier than everyone else, and I skipped the last planned event of the trip, which was a theatre performance, a show with a one word title. It may or may not exist in the real world, and I can't remember the word, but in the dream, I wanted to see it but I knew that I needed to be ready to go when everyone else was. nekouken and I had brought a trailer, and I had help arranged to move the packed baskets and all the furniture down to it after the show.

The head monk running the dormitory turned up and took me walking through the corridors to talk to me. He was angry with me because he felt my presence was a danger to the secrets of the school. He was wrong, because I didn't really know the secrets, but he kept getting angrier and angrier as we moved into halls that were increasingly decrepit. Finally he got to a place where the floor was not even solid any longer, but a saggy bridge of floorboards supported by ropes and insulation, with gaping black holes a few feet wide on either side between the boards and the walls. I stopped and said, "I'm not crossing that." He scoffed at me and stalked onto the boards, and then his sandals got tangled with the insulation, he lost his balance, the bridge twisted and he fell into the blackness.

In the wrapup of the story, as my group was getting ready to leave, I was walking outside with Annie, the now-mostly-senile woman who'd been in charge of the dormitory when I lived there, and talking with her - largely via her caregiver - about the history of the dorm and the monks, and why it was the way it was. The story was disturbing to my dream self, but I did not remember once I awoke.

The interesting part to me on waking is that I have actually had dreams about this dormitory before, set at the time when I was a student and Annie was the hall coordinator, warning us to stay away from the monks. We didn't, but this is a ghost memory of a dream from I don't even know how long ago, so I couldn't say what happened.

I've been around and about today, so I kept coming back to writing it up, and the dream stuck with me long enough to be able to finish. That's actually pretty impressive for a dream, but then, when I woke up I felt the way I do after I've read a good novel, so I guess that makes sense. I want to know more about this dormitory, though.
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