Wednesday 19 March 2014

Story: Oneiromancy, V

I write this entry in the wake of the Bananaman movie revelation. 'Bananaman' and 'Peanuts' both with movies in 2015! That is potentially going to be a fascinating year. My excitement is almost irrational in its intensity, revealing perhaps the lack of excitement in my regular day to day events and lack of interest in most films. And 'Kung Fu Pands 3' too. Amazing. Until then it's time to get deep into Hitchcock and check out some of the less frequented films. And now for the story...

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Story: Oneiromancy, V

(Part O , IV , VI)

Helen had not dreamed like that before. The surreality, if that was the word, had been frightening. Somehow she had been huge, for a moment in union with the land itself. Up above a figure had been floating, transfixed and staring down at her. The figure had seemed real, a fixed point in the shifting narrative which jostled her from the welcome and regular repose of sleep.

The figure had seemed real.

Work reasserted its importance in her mind as the lunch rush began and the tide of customers into the Blue Monkey escalated into a torrent. It was only much later, when the torrent returned to a more stately ebb and flow, that the dream popped into her mind again. All her life she had never really remembered her dreams at all and now... this.

The afternoon wore on, the regulars came and went, and then the teachers came in at the end of the school day. In they came, bedraggled and tired and sometimes triumphant but mostly defeated. They carried cases fulls of papers and bottles of water and ate together, slowly moving up the energy scale back to normality and preparing for piles and piles of marking later in the evening.

One of the teachers approached her, looking a bit dishevelled and sleep-deprived. He looked at her, and then boggled, which amused Helen in its incongruity. No-one ever boggled at her even on the most photogenic days. But then the world stopped and for just a moment the man seemed so real as to eclipse everything else in the restaurant. Everything faded to be as surreal as the Blue Monkey logo itself. And she fainted, just the man in front of her seemed to waver and open his mouth to speak.

This time, while unconscious, Helen didn't dream. After all, who was asleep to hear her?

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