Verre

Ritual: Went to bed around 2am. Woke at 5:45 and fed the cat. Returned to bed and set vibrating alarm, attached to wrist. Interval was 30 minutes, set at 5:55am. Last time I used this device I completely slept through several vibration cycles (it was at the lowest setting), so I turned the intensity up slightly. The first time it went off I remembered to lay still, but could feel that I had already lost dreamstate. The second time it went off, my mind felt fully awake but I felt like I might still be integrated with my dream body. I tested movement cautiously and sure enough, I could swing my arms freely, unconstrained by the covers that I knew lay over them in WL. There were still a few moments when I couldn't quite be sure if I was engaging dream muscles or real ones, so in order to avoid sending the wrong signals, I started spinning and sliding my whole body until I felt like I was lying the wrong way in the bed. I didn't feel like I could safely engage my legs yet, so remaining on my back (though in WL I was sleeping on my left side), I slid across the bed and off the other side until I dropped gently to the floor. The cat was lying on me in WL (confirmed when I woke up afterward) and the sensation of warmth and weight bled through into the dreamstate, so it felt very odd and amusing to have this remain constant even while my self-perception of where I was in relation to the room and the bed was changing. I took care to note this WL sensation cautiously and with a certain mental distance, lest it startle me awake. The sensation faded naturally as I now "stood up" and walked through the house.

EILD: I walk straight into the living room, which was dark, and stop to figure out what I should do. Although I have been trying to remember a few personal tasks, somehow it is easier to recall the TOTYs, so I figure I'll attempt another of those to start with. Most of them seem better suited to the outdoors, so I exit the kitchen patio door.

My initial thought is to look for a circle of fairy mushrooms. My cement back patio is unusually life-like this time, so I cross it until I reach the fence that borders the property. In WL this is a low wall of beige-painted cinderblocks; in the dream it is a chain-link fence several feet taller than I am. With the lightness and agility of my dream body, I easily climb over it and drop down. In WL the ground slopes steeply downward here; for some reason in dreams, it is typically a steep hill going up.

I start looking for fairy mushrooms among the trees, but notice a large area where the soil looks loose and disturbed, as if recently planted with the flowers that cover the expanse at regular intervals. The blossoms are very simple in structure, a small disk encircled by six delicate purple petals. I realize that I am unlikely to find a fairy circle in ground so recently landscaped, so I decide to pursue the gnome task instead. There are trees all around, but most look young, their trunks only a few inches in diameter. I look around for the biggest tree I can find, and approach one that is over two feet in diameter, conjoined with two similarly-sized trunks to make a row of three. I can't tell if they are three trunks from the same tree, or multiple trees that grew up in close proximity.

The earth is still bare and loose here, recently tilled, so it is easy to dig my arms in and start casting it aside. I alternately cast the soil I'm displacing to the left and right and back between my legs. It is much easier to dig than it would be in WL, but it is still too slow and tedious to form a hole of the depth and dimensions I need, so I decide that I need a new strategy. If there are tunnels down there, there shouldn't be any need to displace the soil outside the hole—I should be able to drill straight through. I leave my hands in the earth and focus on pushing the soil inward. As a hole begins to form, I step in and will it to widen, so that I won't feel claustrophobic. When it is a few inches wider than my shoulders on either side, I take the plunge, willing the earth beneath my feet to drop into the tunnels and carry me along with it.

I find myself in a network of spacious square hallways, about seven feet tall and wide. They are dimly lit by what seems to be electric light, though I don't investigate the source. There is nothing natural or even rustic about these tunnels—they might easily be the basement corridors of some ordinary building. I look around for evidence that they are the gnome tunnels that I am seeking, and find that the most distinctive thing about the space is the graffiti scrawled here and there on the walls. It is not high-end arty spray-painted graffiti, just ordinary lettering written in what looks like thick black marker. I step closer to one example and find it at once legible and unexpectedly funny: "Hobbits are HUGE!" It does sound like the sort of thing a gnome might write, so it gives me confidence that I've landed in the right place after all.

I continue down the corridor, looking for more memorable examples of graffiti. The next piece that catches my attention says "SpiritLA." Something about the way it is written makes me think that this is a Los Angeles-based sports team that the gnomes apparently favor. A few steps further on, and I finally encounter the gnomes themselves, about six of them congregating in a junction where several corridors meet. There is also a sort of wire gate that appears to lead into a larger open space, though it is too dark to discern any details. Despite what the graffiti said about hobbits, these figures are pretty huge themselves, coming up almost to my shoulder, so I peer closely at their faces for evidence that they are in fact the gnomes that I seek. I am reassured by their features, which have distinctively rounded, gnomish features.

"Hello," I say, curious how they will respond to my intrusion. "Hello!" they reply cheerfully, completely at ease. I have been voicing my observations (like the examples of graffiti) aloud in order to assist my recall later, so as I take note of the appearance of the gnomes nearest me, I make a vocal shorthand description of their characteristics.

"Blonde, bangs, white dojo," I comment about the first gnome to approach me. She is a female wearing a gi (the garment used in karate practice), and though I know perfectly well what a gi is called in waking life, dream logic substitutes "dojo" instead. Her hair is long and straight, of a golden blonde color. Her gi is bound with a plain white belt. She smiles amiably.

Another female gnome is standing to my right, so I note her appearance in turn, remembering that the task specifies interacting with two of them. "Pink padded blouse and white skirt, knee-length" I say, but even at the time I realize "padded" might not be the right word. "Quilted" would probably be more accurate, since it looks like there is only a very thin layer of batting under the decorative overstitching, done with curving and intersecting lines spaced about half an inch apart. I note that the skirt has the same kind of decorative stitching over thicker cloth, with no apparent batting inside, as the stitches lay flat. "Light hair, long—no, shoulder-length," I continue, noting that her hair is exceptionally pale, almost white, and delicately textured. The way it falls reminds me of how hair was "feathered" in late '70s/early '80s hairstyles. The faces of both females look ageless, neither young nor old. Neither seems disconcerted by my weird mutterings, they both just look at me with calm curiosity.

Although I was able to make very detailed observations on the appearance of both, at this point I felt myself begin waking up and could not reverse the process. The EILD allowed me to time the dream precisely: it went off at 6:55 and I awoke at 7:04, so it only lasted nine minutes in all. Subjectively, it also felt very brief.