The Fourth Factor

I am dreaming a story out. In the story, a village was destroyed, and a small group of children were the only survivors. A woman who was actually a goddess with a special relationship with the village was going to take care of all of them. She was apparently Skuld. All the gods had been gradually losing their powers, her included, so she was (I thought) really more of a demigod.

A man who had left the village some time back has independently decided to return to take care of the children as well. (I was playing with the idea of his actually having been exiled from it at some point.) He had not been a particularly responsible person up until then and had led a rather rough life but genuinely cared about doing this. He was a bit suspicious of the goddess-woman since the village wasn’t large, and he didn’t recognize her, and so he didn’t see why she was involved at all. Both of them were portrayed as characters from a story I thought of sometime when I was a teenager but never did anything with. They played notably different roles in the dream.

-23.6.22

Other interesting dreams recently:

-Cleaning under my bed in childhood home #4, I find an open box of graham crackers. It turns out to be full of cicadas, which makes me happy because I like cicadas and because I was thinking at first it was going to be wasps.

-While visiting a friend, I go out looking for a coffee shop in a location that’s dream-familiar but accidentally end up in a public area overlooking congress. I discreetly leave at the earliest possible moment and find the coffee shop nearby.

-In another dream-familiar city, I go to higher ground to avoid rising floodwater and end up near a tent city. Notable in that I could smell it as well as hear the people talking there.

-Descending a staircase into an underground area, accompanied by full orchestration. Unfortunately, all I can remember about the music was that it was in 4/4 time, and timpani were playing on beats 1 and 3.

This dream was interesting: it was like I was playing out a role in a story, aware that it was a story (but not aware that it was a dream). It was being narrated—not by anybody present, but a voice that I could talk to and that seemed to be indicating what I should be doing as much as describing it.

The setting was a building like an airport - at least, in the only part I can remember. But it only appeared that way from the standpoint of the people there: it was really two separate buildings, split by a wall they couldn’t see. Inside the wall were rooms where there were people—people who could see through the wall and observe what was happening on both sides, and people in offices who were presumably working to keep the place going. The camera—for lack of a better word—seemed to make a point of showing this area, even though nothing much was happening there. At one point, it slowly panned across it so that you could see all the people as well as a window showing an entire world outside that didn’t exist from the standpoint of the people in the building where I was.

Right now, I’m concerned with getting into a special event that’s being held by people whose land borders mine. I approach a man I know—maybe in his late 30s, wearing some kind of complex, vaguely tribal outfit—and ask him if he can take me along. He’s happy to accept. He just seems to be a good-natured person who likes helping people get what they want. He probably thinks I just want to get in with a certain crowd, but I have other reasons for needing to be there (unfortunately, not ones I can remember after waking up).

He’s going there now, and I’ll be coming along on a – well, I’m not entirely sure what it is. It has a special name (that I forgot) and seems to be a bit like a jet ski, but attached to a helicopter and with things like leather shields I’m supposed to hold onto. As I look it over, I’m glad this is going to be broadcast over the radio because that gives everyone in the audience a chance to imagine something less stupid-looking. But I get on it, and we head off.

24.4.18