26/08/13

26/08/13

I had a bit of a strange dream last night I was in a town, which was oxford, but very wild west town-ish. I was walking around the green, which looked a lot like the one I used to walk around up in Tanterton in Preston. It is autumn, and wet and chilly. I come across a woman. She is in distress so I stop to help her. She gives birth to this hideous mummy like creature, and she knows she is dying. She’s cold, wet and its autumn, and it’s like the child sucked all the life out of her. She asks me to care for it. I agree before she dies. The child is tiny, like a baby Thumbelina mummy. All blackish brown leathery skin. I wrap it up and continue walking, to take the baby to the Father, who I apparently know. I took a baby bottle when the mother gave me the child before she died, so feed the baby, and for some reason, the baby starts to get the normal soft pink flesh a baby has. As I walk I see rubbish from a stately home. There are desks and other furniture, including a wash stand. I continue looking for the father, walking into wild west Oxford. There is a dead man in a buried (something I stopped writing after this, but I’m presuming that based on what my memory is coming up with the father is buried in a clear coffin in an open grave.

17/5/11

17/5/11
 
The dram I had last night was unusual, in that I saw things from a disembodied state rather than as one of the people in the dream.  So I was following this Roman centurion or legionary around.  He was at home with family, and a little boy, when he gets orders to go to the aid of a town across the bay of Naples – because Vesuvius is erupting.  So he gathers his cohort of about 30 men and heads off, only the little boy, who I tag as his nephew follows along – and he’s way too young to be with the legionaries – he’s only about ten.  He’s very inquisitive and talkative and the men humour him as if he’s some sort of a mascot.  They are just coming around the base of Vesuvius when the ash starts to fall, along with lapilli and pumice.  They form up, using their shields to protect them.  There’s a bit of narrative (from the little boy’s mother) about the legionary and how he is struggling to cope with the death of his mother.  Thus follows an interesting scene with the marble effigy (life sized) of his mother getting buried in the ash as the men try to protect themselves (the big blocks are falling in the ash).  They are scattered, and the little boy is now cowering behind a stone mile marker.  The men seem to have forgotten him.  It’s all in greeny-purple and grey colours.  I got woken up before the end, which is a shame.  I would have liked to have known the ending.