Leave the bags here.

18
Dec
2012

I was with some woman who was sort of a mother figure, but not in any way like my mother. It was more like she was someone else’s mother, but I was travelling with her.  (Visually, she kinda looked like a cross between a run down Tina Turner and the mom from the Partridge family). We were staying in a very shabby, poor, house (or motel even), waiting for something. This place was really rundown and smelled bad, it was not very well kept up at all. At a certain point we learned from someone we could fly, and we went outside to test the whole thing out. After some trial and error, we got it working for a few minutes and were exhilarated, even thought I had a backpack and a big white plastic bag with me filled with something that I had to carry while flying. Then we wanted to really take off on a long test flight, but I had these two bags I had to leave somewhere as it was impractical to keep flying with them. As I was looking for the key to the cupboard in our shabby room to lock them into, my companion had to go to the local school to tell her daughter that she was leaving. She was really hesitant to do so, because she remembered how much pain it had caused her daughter the last time they had a talk at the school, when she had gone with her ex-husband to announce that they were getting a divorce. While she was explaining her dread to me and preparing to go, a strange sad woman from across the street was staring at us through the windows. My companion then switched to talking about the woman, and how she had noticed her several times before, following us. I told her that this woman was harmless, just a neighborhood kook. I was trying to be understanding, but the truth was I was a bit impatient to get going with the flying thing. And then I woke up.

Comments

  1. Mom says:

    Freud would have a heyday with your dreams….