Saturday night. 31st October 2015.

This dream seemed to be somewhat of a sequel to a previous dream. I remember vaguely what occurred in that dream but only because of what happened in this dream. The first dream, or idea of that dream, laid down the tracks on which this dream rode.

I was engaged in some business with a romantic endeavor of mine, Sylvia. Sylvia started selling (I seem to think these things were stolen.) some ‘packages’. Black boxes the size of a cocker spaniel.  She enlisted my help to be something of a middleman, she would leave the packages with me whilst she did who knows what and I was simply to keep hold of them until her associates arrived. So there I was in some dreamlike version of my home waiting for beautiful Sylvia; she never arrived. All that I received was the package  at my doorstep; it didn’t have a note or a set of instructions but I knew what I needed to do. Sylvia’s associates were going to meet me later that evening to pick up the box.
The middle of the dream was invariably hazy but I remember quite keenly the situation I found myself in after the sun set. I had gone out somewhere, somewhere nearby, in all likelihood a social situation. For reasons unbeknownst to me I had left the package near some bushes near my rural home. When I returned from wherever I was I checked the bush that I had stashed the package in, right under the bramble, the one with the red berries. It wasn’t there. I didn’t know much about Sylvia’s relationship and arrangement with her associates but I knew enough to instantly feel the debilitating  wave of fear attacking my mind like a fire.  I had to find the package because I definitely did not have the money to recompense Sylvia or her associates (as if having that money would sort everything out). This wasn’t contingent fear, it was of the other variety. The necessary species.
I began to run. I ran from bush to hedge, along the winding roads, searching frantically for the package.  I had a drop off time and location that I knew I would miss. While I was searching I knew that I would be late and the later it got the more I knew that my lateness wouldn’t be the problem; it would be a complete absence that would confound and ultimately anger the Associates. As the futility of my search descended on me my mind went to damage control, stressful thoughts about the solution and not the problem. A better compartmentalization strategy but stressful nonetheless. What would I say? What would I do? How did I find myself in this situation? I never thought I meant a great deal to Sylvia in my real life, perhaps this dream is the echo of that thought.
I made my way home, imagining all sorts of permutations and combinations of conversational exchanges that could someway absolve me of blame, a call for sympathy perhaps, a general ignorance or maybe the solace that can be found in victim-hood, I was after all on the other end of a robbery (I didn’t entertain the idea that I had misplaced the object). I didn’t really know what to do, I had missed the drop off, there wasn’t much point making my way down there. I could have called Sylvia but I seemed to be sure that she wasn’t the problem nor the solution. Whoever these associates were I knew that they were dangerous. Perhaps I wasn’t the middleman but instead Sylvia’s unfortunate and blissfully ignorant replacement. She found a way out and I was the fare she had to pay. It might have been an easy decision for her to make, I think it probably was. I decided that I wanted out too, maybe this package was always set to magically disappear. Maybe this is the game. Either way I see now why Sylvia didn’t want to play and  neither did I. I collected my things and packed a suitcase, as I was tying my shoelaces I had a kind of vision. It was a few minutes into the future, I had left my house and walked towards the front gate and as I emerged out onto the street I felt a sudden chill, like I had suddenly completely disrobed out there in the night. I turned to my right and a few meters away was a tall dark skinned man holding a gun. He smiled and raised the gun….then I was back at home tying my shoelaces. As quickly as my vision came it left. I shook it off and went to close my bag when I heard a knock at the door and suddenly I was aware of a quick narrowing of my vision, like a Hitchkockian trick of cinema, my very own Vertigo effect. I approached the door and unlocked it, there stood 4 or 5 tall dark men; a posse. I knew exactly who they were and they knew who I was. The obvious leader peered past me and looked inside. He saw a jacket and suitcase on the bed.
‘Hmm if you’re on your way to meet us you’re a bit late. You could be on your way somewhere else, when you really should be meeting us. So which is it? Both possibilities lead to terrible outcomes for you’
I began to explain. I tried every trick I could-feigning ignorance, false bravado,  empty gestures and promises I tried it all. I thought about Sylvia throughout my lies and pleas, she floated around my mind as I spouted my lies and half-truths like an origami boat during a storm out on the ocean. I never uttered her name although part of me wanted to, she made it out and once you’re out you’re out. Those are the rules and I respect rules. The Leader listened to me without interruption then when I finished my piece he placed his hand on my shoulder and expressed sympathy for me. He prattled on about the dangers of fortune and chance and how I can’t trust women. He then leaned in close to my face and grinned. I saw a row of jagged inhuman teeth, like a Great White’s only smaller. He then produced a bright orange gun as he recoiled and straightened up. It was then that my cowardice usurped the drivers seat of my soul. I begged and I screamed while they laughed and laughed. Finally he told me to ‘STOP’ with a beastly roar, The Leader took aim and that was the end. I didn’t hear a shot but I woke up so I presume the dream concluded in my subconscious death and asleep or awake I cannot help but blame Sylvia.
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