Dream

Posted on October 17, 2002 in Dreams

One of those dreams which, like the experience of life, refuses to congeal as a story. The sixth floor of a library where they keep illuminated manuscripts and mystical lore, particularly Jewish. An exhibit shows “Duke Cathedral”. The marble effigy graves of the Dukes are placed on the altar. Curious man-beasts with the heads of moles and mice stand next to them: a voiceover tells me that the Dukes loved moles and mice.

I leave the building for some reason and when I return, I enter the wrong one. Several men do something in the lobby. I leave quickly. I approach the correct building, a black glass hulk like the San Bernardino City Hall. An African American joins me. I point to some denuded hillsides. “Clear cutting. They did it in the West. You should see what it did there and yet you went ahead and did it here.” We enter the correct building and get in the elevator.

The door magically switches, like a crouton batted across a bowl of soup, from where we came in to the opposite wall. The lift begins to rise, diagonally but straight up towards the opposite end of the building.