Dream

Posted on December 27, 2002 in Dreams

Everyone in the family is out of work. My mother is making me and everyone else (including at least one sister that I never had — maybe one of the miscarriages?) do stuff to find work. I am making resumes and writing query letters. Then she opens up a book store. It’s a plain affair. I suggest we start having writing groups and inviting authors over.

The dream crackles and sputters. I am an author and I am going to speak at a bookstore. They’re expecting me, but no one knows what I look like. I arrive early and have a coffee at the bar. Then I go out to watch some kind of miniature remote controlled air show. They launch a few model airplanes between the buildings. Then someone brings out a huge, dark green, full-sized, remote-controlled P-51 Mustang. I understand that they’ve used a special, explosive fuel. They launch it. I wait for the explosion, which I expect will be huge. I do my best, in fact, to make it so, but the plane only spews a little fire at the seams and falls apart without hurting anyone or causing damage to anything else.