i'd almost forgotten what the morning smells like. shame on me.
i wasn't sure if i was going to run today. i sure as hell wasn't excited about getting out of bed early. i had a grocery list to make, tutoring to plan, and all kinds of everything else that absolutely had to be more important than moving my butt around some random macadam route that didn't really go anywhere. so before globbing out of bed, only because a certain dog needed to do his business, i'd decided. it wasn't going to happen. no running today. not after the nightmare i'd had.
***
***
my dreams tend to be especially vivid, to the point where i very clearly remember one that recurred frequently when i was five and six years old. for an image to lurk in the back of my mind for ~28 years... i don't know. anyway, this morning's dream ranked among the especially bizarre. i was on some sort of journey, on a boat that, in the beginning, defied description. there were friends and family, my brother and his among them, although my parents were nowhere to be seen (very unusual for any Beatty family gathering). when i awakened to my own presence, i stole between the white rooms that belonged more in a house than on the sea. the kids slept. it was quiet, dark, with only the white-blue moonlight daring to show me corners, doors, and passageways. i saw Geoff in a long corridor. though the shadows covered his face, i could still sense his smile. he was looking for something. he inquired where it was, his whiskered moving chin up and down, up and down, in delight. i couldn't answer. something wasn't right. the overtones didn't match; this was not my brother, though somehow it was.
unable to breathe, i left the confines of the white-washed shadows and ventured into the open air. no longer night, a hot, copper disc hung in the air. or rather, it seemed as though it was hanged. and i was no longer myself, although i was. pale cheeks, long black hair pulled tight, and red, silk robe with gold embroidery: i'd become a chinese courtesan. as i made my way along the deck of this mashup vessel, i had to find another somewhere. a sister, perhaps? a companion? no matter who she was, she was identical. she was important to me.
i paused at the railing as another ship, congruent in every way to my own, passed by, some distance from the port side. a sudden series of blasts rocked the water, ripped the hull to shreds, and spit fire through the shambles of a deck, finally pushing the dying boat beneath the water. i clung to the chaise lounge nearest me, to make sure that it wasn't my ship that was sinking, and to keep the angry river from dragging me below. while the horror was drawn out, the moment lasted but an instant, and the current was soon smooth, as though nothing had happened. i'd lost my breath, was wide-eyed, and my fingers bled from my grip on the chair. what had just happened? i seemed to be the only one who'd seen it. then i looked up.
standing a few decks above, the man was smiling, and his stalwart frame cast a long shadow over me. he was wearing a military uniform of sorts, bearing medals and some signifier of a powerful rank, though i didn't know how high. the only thing i did know was that i was shivering and couldn't look away. the closer i did look, the worse it got. his hair, onyx, like mine, his eyes, drinking in every detail of the world around him, just as mine were doing, and his laughter... his laughter that drowned out the screams in my head. the only way he could smother my thoughts was if he had control of them. no, only if he had them, if he thought them too... only then could he effectively silence them. my thoughts were his, and i choked back the vomit when i realized that his thoughts were mine. there was no mirror courtesan to find; this martial beast was my true reflection.
***
there's more to this dream, but, as it goes on and on, it would take far too long to record the rest of it here. as i'm not always sure of my efficacy in description, i'm not sure if i've fully conveyed the fear inherent. what happens in my head is so vivid; it's only after the fact that the fuzziness and confusion take hold, and though the images and feelings remain, the words cannot find their way into the open. at any rate, this is what had me in a death grip when i woke this morning.
it's also why i've realized why a run this morning was probably one of the most healthful things i could do. my ankle hurt because i'd been pushing it a little too far, and my quads and hamstrings were still sore because the hills take some getting used to. there was the smell of honeysuckle between two buildings in the apartment complex, and there was the dog that barked and barked and barked and barked and barked because, By God, I'd Better Stay Away From Its Lawn. by the time i'd circled target and its surrounding neighborhood, my body and the local flora and fauna had become my mental companions, edging their way in while my feet pounded the morning's fear into the road.
i paused at the railing as another ship, congruent in every way to my own, passed by, some distance from the port side. a sudden series of blasts rocked the water, ripped the hull to shreds, and spit fire through the shambles of a deck, finally pushing the dying boat beneath the water. i clung to the chaise lounge nearest me, to make sure that it wasn't my ship that was sinking, and to keep the angry river from dragging me below. while the horror was drawn out, the moment lasted but an instant, and the current was soon smooth, as though nothing had happened. i'd lost my breath, was wide-eyed, and my fingers bled from my grip on the chair. what had just happened? i seemed to be the only one who'd seen it. then i looked up.
standing a few decks above, the man was smiling, and his stalwart frame cast a long shadow over me. he was wearing a military uniform of sorts, bearing medals and some signifier of a powerful rank, though i didn't know how high. the only thing i did know was that i was shivering and couldn't look away. the closer i did look, the worse it got. his hair, onyx, like mine, his eyes, drinking in every detail of the world around him, just as mine were doing, and his laughter... his laughter that drowned out the screams in my head. the only way he could smother my thoughts was if he had control of them. no, only if he had them, if he thought them too... only then could he effectively silence them. my thoughts were his, and i choked back the vomit when i realized that his thoughts were mine. there was no mirror courtesan to find; this martial beast was my true reflection.
***
there's more to this dream, but, as it goes on and on, it would take far too long to record the rest of it here. as i'm not always sure of my efficacy in description, i'm not sure if i've fully conveyed the fear inherent. what happens in my head is so vivid; it's only after the fact that the fuzziness and confusion take hold, and though the images and feelings remain, the words cannot find their way into the open. at any rate, this is what had me in a death grip when i woke this morning.
it's also why i've realized why a run this morning was probably one of the most healthful things i could do. my ankle hurt because i'd been pushing it a little too far, and my quads and hamstrings were still sore because the hills take some getting used to. there was the smell of honeysuckle between two buildings in the apartment complex, and there was the dog that barked and barked and barked and barked and barked because, By God, I'd Better Stay Away From Its Lawn. by the time i'd circled target and its surrounding neighborhood, my body and the local flora and fauna had become my mental companions, edging their way in while my feet pounded the morning's fear into the road.
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