Commuting on the bus as usual this morning thinking I had lost all memory from last night’s dream. Then a girl with a backpack riding a motorcycle went by, jogging my recall. It’s still not the full story but enough to write about.
I walked into a hotel room. It had dark grey walls but very high ceilings. The light was either not on or dimmed. The only light came from the bathroom which was every inch covered with a swirly greyish beigh marble. Above the mirror was a bank of lights, not decorative at all or fitting to the rest of the decor. It was simple, like the lights they install on a makeup table, backstage at a theatre.
I think I was talking to another person who was in the room, only there wasn’t really any verbal talking. They were there but insubstantial. Almost like a ghost. Well I mean they kept shifting into different people and just seemed like they were not physically present. I recall talking to this being which at one point was my mom, another point my husband and at another points other people whom I cannot remember now. I do remember removing my lounge pants so that they dropped down around my ankles. I stepped out of them and peered into thee A mirror.
All I saw a reflection back out in the hallway, a grey door that led to the next room, only there should’ve been a wall behind the mirror, behind me. The door had a raised frame but because everything was colored the same, were it not framed by the mirror, it could have easily been missed. I don’t know what else happened here.
Next bit I can recall, I am outside riding up a driveway on a very small, low powered motorcycle. It had such little power I thought it was a scooter that just looked like a motorcycle. But it was like a cartoon, like it had life in it. Everytime I turned the throttle on the handlebars, they would move closer together than kind of release it back out. It was like the bike had to take a deep breath, make a lot of effort and whatever it breathed back out was the extra gas I was trying to give the engine. But still, it didn’t go very fast, just loud.
The driveway was curved, to the right and on an incline. I approached some open black gates, beyond them was a mansion. However there were a bunch of kids playing and laughing just in front. I remember worrying about the kids but my bike was so slow I didn’t stop. I remember actually knocking a kid over as I rode by, not with the bike but with my arms and legs that were sticking out the side.
I rode past the gates up to the circular driveway in front of the mansion. A few friends including df were there. They were doing something on the lawn, maybe playing a game. When I stopped the bike, they all stopped and started to come towards the bike to gather around me, df was first, closest. All the while, they were making fun of me or asking curious questions about the bike but not in a mean way. They were showing interest. Before df could actually reach the bike, he was basically about 2 feet away, I kick started the engine and rode off, wobbly then righted my balance. I wanted badly to stick around but something in me told me I had to go, before he/they reached me, that it wasn’t a good idea.
I rode past the gates going the other way, zoomed past the kids and turned the curve left sharply this time, leaning my body into the curve. Since the bike was so small and low, I ended up dragging my left toe on the ground breifly. The last thing I remember was that I glanced down at my left show to check for damage/injury and silently thanked god to see that it was fine – just a bit worn, scratched and scuffed.