rshort1202

I am walking through a ‘neighborhood’. I think I begin to realize that it’s not really a neighborhood, as there are many styles of houses without any separation. It feels endless; with every corner turned there are just more streets, more corners, more houses. Some of these houses seem pretty large. I get a glimpse in one with all white walls that looks to have an open space two stories high. A lot of the architecture here is atypical - mostly the proportions just look funky.



I’m in some building, what feels like a second story bedroom in an antique house. There are a couple others here around my age (they seem familiar in the dream, but I don’t think it’s anyone I know). I’m showing them how to play a game that consists of throwing red dots? onto a bird tilted slightly back. I think the next person has to throw theirs on the same spot. They’re not paying attention that well.

I am outside and in some body of water, maybe a small lake. There is a stone wall that I and some others are jumping into the water from. I think it or part of it is mostly submerged though? Now, I’m looking at a stone arch - like a doorway - with a tree behind it. There is an older man who climbs the arch and then starts climbing the tree too. I guess he’s going to be jumping from up there. Now I think there’s something about him getting stuck and falling. I see him lying on the ground.




I am about to play a game with a guy about my age who is unfamiliar to me. I know that this is a 200 year rivalry? and so I become somewhat anxious. The guy is darker skinned and much heavier than me, which worries me. The game begins now, and it’s like air hockey, except on the ground and with a stone? puck a foot or two across. We can only use our feet to move it, and I grasp the siding of the small arena for more force. I easily score goal after goal until I think there’s no way he’ll be able to come back.

I am at work (though it doesn’t really look like it - it does look like a retail store, but not necessarily JCPenney). It feels like I am upstairs, and I am with two unfamiliar others, one guy and one girl. We are sitting and playing a board game. The board is larger and sitting atop something. I think there are a few pieces, one being a longer, black piece of food (like a brownie?) Apparently when it is your turn you tell another player what to do and they are supposed to do it. I say this because the guy has told me to go count all the hangers in the store, and I am going to do it. I think it’s going to be hard to impossible but that’s just how the game works. I start on it, in what looks like the hallway to our employee entrance. I am counting and thinking of a strategy to not miss any when I see Mairin putting out some new clothes. They are men’s long sleeve button ups, in blues with subtle patterns, and I kind of like them. She is telling me and one other something as she fills an empty rack with a handful of the shirts. Now, a black man comes in and asks a simple question. I answer it, and he is super excited and impressed with me. On his way out, he gives me a pretty long hug. I had went for a handshake, but adjusted to a hug. He tells me thanks again, etc. I call him brother, and then hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way - it seems like he doesn’t. He asks if I like some orange beer? I’m not sure at first but then he specifies and I realize what he’s talking about and say “oh yeah.” He leaves and comes back in with a bottle of one and a glass. He gives them both to me, and I notice the glass has a little bit of what looks like peanut butter inside of it. I think that it’s gross and it’s probably just been sitting in his car or something, but that it’s a very kind gesture.




I am in some kind of cabin. There is a counter to order food and large paper menus hanging above it. I have to get kind of close to the counter to read the menu, and the younger looking employees are all looking to me as if I’m ready to order. To signal that I’m not quite ready, I start looking at the bookshelf below the counter. I notice a few stacks of books, one stack being maroon and antiquated looking books. I notice that every other ‘book’ isn’t really shaped like a book, but more like a box for a nice pen or something that shape. It looks like they’re in a series or all go together. I notice a girl off to the left poke a note out from behind something sort of secretly. I assume the note will be something about me ordering food. I go over and she hands me a different note, a full size paper. I glance at it, having no idea what it could be about. I think it could be about me or that it could be some kind of petition. I just fold it and hold onto it to look at it later.




I am at a small (rock?) beach at what looks like a large, clear pond. Emmy’s mom? sits next to me, and I notice Emmy swimming. I want to show her a picture of Makayla because they look so similar. As I talk to her, I am forgetting Emmy’s name, but remember it right before I have to use it.

Something about Sam and some guy. Sam and this less-than-quality guy are hooking up or dating or otherwise getting together at some level other than friends. I think all of us, and Brittney?, are outside. Sam and the boy go up in the hills. He has blond hair and a typical ‘fuck boy’ style. I think he is also up to no good.




I am at Beer NV with Melissa, Brooke, and I think one other. It looks almost entirely different though, looking more like a restaurant, with different sections of tables. The energy is more subdued as well, feeling like a lazy afternoon. I have sat at the table in the midst of their playing a game that consists of a coaster sized circle piece with dots in equal increments around its perimeter. The players are supposed to connect the dots by choosing a person in the spot that correlates with the dot. The person or the connection of the dots is based on how many siblings the chosen person has? The connections then become edges along which this circle is cut, creating a new shape. (The object may be to produce a certain new shape?) On my turn, I pick Brooke. They ask ‘you think?’, mostly rhetorically but partially seriously, as they have already tried choosing Brooke but are also running out of possible solutions. Now, everyone here is playing a new (trivia?) game. An employee (Deborah?) is coming around, checking for people using their phones. I am on my phone, but I’m only checking the tap list on Digital Pour. I lock the screen and lay it on the table, seeing no need to worry about it being out if I’m really not cheating. I think about how I didn’t know they do this many games here. I now think I’m ready for another beer, feeling fine to drive, and alternate between the menu on my phone and the physical menu just within reading distance, up on the wall. The hanging chalkboard? is quite large, though the writing is small. It hangs above a rectangular table that is behind the bar counter, which is also fairly large. Two men, one old, sit at this table. Nobody else is going up to the counter, but I think it is still okay to do so. I now have a glass of beer, but I am outside with Dad and Melissa. It looks like the old house’s backyard. Dad starts talking to us. He has a few more sips of a dark beer in the glass in his hand (a nonic pint type) and the indication of more than a few sips past in his eyes and speech. This beer is a contrast to mine, which looks to be blood orange. Dad ends up showing us pictures on his phone, his age betrayed by how he holds it and swipes through pictures. One of the pictures is of Dad standing and smiling with a younger blond lady. The next picture is that same girl and one other, seated on a bench on either side of Dad, their shirts held open, small tits exposed and nipples censored (by some overlay/exposure or addition to the photo). I almost think he’s going to realize he didn’t mean to show us this one, but he leaves it up and starts giggling unabashedly. I’m not sure what to do other than laugh along at the entire situation.

I am in some room, open and airy, yet almost a room that feels like it should be smaller (I can’t tell if it’s more of a gym or a bedroom, or some combination of both). There are only two others here: Allison and Harper. I am sitting on the floor, my legs straight out in front of me. There’s a small gap between them, in which Harper sits. She’s nestled between my calves, facing me, holding onto my hands. I tilt her to the side, as if I’m going to let her fall, before moving her back to an upright position. I watch as each tilting brings a smile to her face. Meanwhile, Allison is out on the floor and throwing me the needle-sided portions of the security ink tags. She throws them at me, and I attempt to punch them back at her. Some of the needles are making contact and tearing up my knuckles. My preoccupation with the baby/toddler coupled with the inefficiency of punching these things results in me feeling like I am not making for a very fun time for Allison. I think she may sense this too.