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Trynn and the Giants' Feast

I had a dream:

I was walking outside, at night. The moon was full and a burning orange colour, bathing the landscape in fire, it seemed. The air was warm and the town I was in was built on the side of a steep slope. Below, the black outline of bare branched trees swayed slightly in a soft breeze that did not blow where I was standing. There were people wandering intermittently along the streets, and engaged in quiet conversation. I didn't pay much attention to them.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned, finding a woman, my age with red-brown hair and deep blue eyes smiling at me. She was tall, slightly taller than me, and I knew I should have recognized her, but I couldn't place her. I remained impassive until she reached out to hug me, and then took a step back. "I haven't seen you in so long," she said, her voice hitting that higher pitch twice in the sentence.
"I think you have me confused," I said. "It happens to me all the time." I tried to escape her hug, and she let me go, her eyes focusing on my face, scrutinizing me. She smiled again, undetered.
"No, it's you. Trent, right? We went to high school together. You haven't changed!" I hated these situations; being caught of guard always made me uncomfortable.*
I shrugged, "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you. How have you been?" My voice was still impassive and I was looking over her shoulder at people walking by.
"I'm meeting some people for dinner," she said excitedly. "Why don't you come?" Before I could refuse, she latched onto my arm and more or less dragged me down the street. She started telling me about what she'd been doing with the years between now and high school, even though I didn't asked. Actually, I don't recall having spoken at all. I could smell the wind blowing up the hill now. She was on the downhill side of me, making her less tall, and the wind brought a sweet scent of what could have been jasmine and the dampness of the old trees below. Her hair twisted slightly in the breeze as I watched her out of the corner of my eye.
The restaurant was one large table, filled with people, all of which I found out as I was introduced, were her family. Crowds bothered me; being in a crowd of people that were united made me paranoid. Conversations drifted around the table, and I listened to three or four of them at a time; mostly about kids, or work. Any questions directed at me were quickly answered, shortly and tersely and the questioner would move on. Laughter and clanking dishes, loud voices, the smell of spice and wine, the touch of her on my arm all assaulted my senses. Part of me wanted to experience this, to be part of this kind of family, wanted to belong to something. The larger part of me wanted to leave, and I imagined quietly evaporating into the dark shadows of the room.
"...going to see a movie." Her voice snapped me back to this room.
"What movie are you going to see?" Her brother was leaning across the table, asking me, smiling.
"I'm not sure," I said, looking questioningly at her.
"You'll be able to give her a ride home after, right?" I was confused, and had the feeling of being set-up; they were hunters, beating the bushes, driving me into a trap. I smiled to myself, and decided to see how cunning they were.
"Sure," I said. I pushed myself away from the table and took a quick look around. The family were all beaming knowingly at her, and she latched herself to my arm again. Goodnights were said and we left. "I'd rather get a coffee," I said as we walked down the street.
"Sure," she said and leaned on my shoulder. The contact was starting to make me feel snared, but the warmth of her body was appealing to some other part of me. We came to a kiosk outside, the moon had started to set and the land darkened slightly. We stood at a tall, round table and I looked down the hill at the trees again. The breeze had died now, and the branches were almost indistinguishable from the blackening sky.
I felt a slight touch on the back of my neck and the hair on my arms stood on end. I turned to look at her, and she kissed me. Her lips were soft and her slightly opened mouth breathed a sweetness into me. I could smell her makeup as her cheek touched my nose. "I have a girlfriend," I said, pushing myself away from her. Her face darkened, the softness about her disappeared. I smiled again inwardly, wondering what tricks she would try to break me, to bend me to her will. Her deep blue eyes froze over and she slapped me. I felt the sting of her linger, as did the smell of her makeup.
"You're a fucking bastard," she said, picking up her purse. Before I could say anything, more because I didn't want to than because I couldn't think of anything, she stormed off. I watched her stomp down the road, her hands flailing, her voice carrying more curses back to me.
"That was unexpected," the voice came from behind me. A dark figure stood there, a cloaked shape that I knew as myself.
"I expected something more ambitious," I said. Something didn't feel physically right.
"She stole your wallet," the dark figure said, smiling beneath his dark hood. My teeth gritted and he laughed at me. "Duped anyway. You should have quit while you had the chance."

I'm not sure what the dream means, but I did enjoy it. The textures and smells were incredibly vivid. I realized last night, as I was walking to my room from work that the only thing I can remember changing lately that might affect my unconscious in this way it a small bundle of sage I have hanging over my bed. When I switched bunks, Barb had given me the sage. She bought it at a market in Edmonton, thinking "it looked neat" and that I would enjoy it's esoteric quality. The reason I mention this is because I realized last night, when I remembered the sage, that for all the signs I've been looking at lately, I'm missing some of the more controllable influences. I don't know if it's the sage that has any influence, but it is possible for me to experiment with it.

*It used to. I've become much better at handling surprises. I think this is a hangover from younger days.

posted by September @ 7:24 AM