6.3.23

Dream Time: Inky & The Shopping Mall.

Lil’ Small were in our maternal grandmothers house, but it didn’t look like it. A very white interior. We were going through… things. Boxes of things to decide to keep or not. Then we were in an older RV. It belonged to the pool people that we used to housesit for. I was looking in the mini fridge, which was black & silver & on the counter. It had pork in the freezer part. I was excited. “We get to keep this right?! Since this RV is ours now? Look! Pig! & it’s good!”

Then I was under this overhang on a grassy field. Very much like the covered portion for football players on a football field or practice field. In fact, there was a football team, teenage boys, so high school. They were all buddying up on these things. Facing each other, grabbing handles to push against each other for resistance practice. I was the lone girl & I was partnered with this guy who very much resembled the kid that plays Barry Goldberg from The Goldbergs. And he was my boyfriend…?

I stood on my side of the thing & was trying to figure out the handles, but kept thinking my fingers would get caught. Then, somehow he got this clear-ish, viscous liquid on his hands & then rubbed it into his eyes & left his section & went & sat down. ‘I need to help!’

“Baby?! Are you OK? Come on baby, I’ll get you cleaned up.”, as I helped him stand up & put my hand on his back to help lead him to a bathroom.

But then, I’m just carrying my cat, Inky, like I always hold him, on his back, but propped up. He had the stuff on his paws & in his eyes. I take him into a bathroom that my dreaming self recognized, but neither my dreaming, nor sleeping self, had ever been in it. It was vintage in green & blue tile work.

I get him up to the mirror & tell him it’ll be OK, but that I’ll have to gently wash him. I looked down & it was like in real life if I look down at Inky. His fluffy belly & his face was the same, not some weird dream version of my cat. (Like that picture, but held lower than my face). I turn the tap on & gently put water on his face & then use water on his paws.

He’s OK with this. But then he looks in the large, rectangular mirror over the sinks & tries backing away. He doesn’t like what he sees in the mirror. I can’t see anything but light flare, like someone has a flashlight shined onto the mirror, because the bathroom was pretty low-lit. But, I know that there are… things… in that mirror. Dead people? Entities? Nothing good.

He’s trying to escape them, so also escape from my arms, but I know that I need to rush him (us) to safety. Only I’m having trouble finding my way out of this damn bathroom. I finally find the exit & emerge from a shop into a shopping mall. I know it (only I don’t really, just in this dream I do), & if I turn left that’ll be the back exit that workers use.

It’s only then that I notice that the mall is full of young Asians. & I’m horrified. It’s like a bad video game. I’m gonna have to make it through them to that door. They haven’t noticed us yet, …but they will.

In the dream, I just knew that they’d all feel that Inky was total Kawaii! They’d rush up & in high voices in their languages tell him that he’s just the cutest! We’d be mobbed like he’s a celebrity (which he kinda is, I mean, did you see how pretty he is?). He’d like the attention… at first, but then he’d just want to get away & I’d lose him.

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First off, what is it with me & shopping malls?! Also, why am I always dreaming about Inky? I mean, I do pick him up a lot. He is really cute & fluffy & he allows it. My family says we have this connection (& no, I don’t think Inky is my boyfriend), but I think it’s just because I give him kitty cookies, speak French for him, & tell him he’s pretty a lot.

Even this morning, he jumped on the table, saw his food wasn’t fresh, jumped to the buffet to gain the kitchen counter where I was fixing my morning coffee & stalked low, his blue eyes intent on me. It’s a little menacing, but he knows I’ll pick him up, coo over him, & give him fresh food & more importantly… cookies.

But I suppose we do have a connection, as he has appeared in my dreams five times now. I don’t dream of my other cats (except Marzipan, who died two years ago. It’s always her, except the one time that she was a group of hummingbirds). One time Inky was a teenage boy from the 70’s, but also turned back into his cat self.

So, I had kind of been day dreaming of pork. We’d not had that in a while & I either wanted bacon or chops, ya know? That night we purchased some thin pork cutlets that Lil’ Small skillet fried in Italian breadcrumbs the way she does. Perfection & now I’m no longer dreaming of pork. In sleepy or wakey time.

And what’s with me having a teenage, football playin’ boyfriend? And him lookin’ like Barry Goldberg (especially since I stopped watching that show over a month ago!) & then turning into my cat?!?

Also, what was the viscous liquid. It wasn’t… what you think it might be. It wasn’t… biological in nature. Ya know… jizz. But it did seem like that. I think it was from a plant or something. My dreaming self just knew this wasn’t from man, but other nature. But whatever it was was harmful, would burn if not gotten off the skin our outta the eyes.

And what’s with the vintage bathroom that, in this dream, I recognized, but I’ve never dreamt about before nor ever seen in real life. And what was with the dead things in the mirror.

I tell these dream to Lil’ Small & she says, “That’s a weird dream, Sarah. You always have the weirdest dreams.” Sometimes I counter with her always saying this, but she’ll come back with, “No, this time it’s really weird.”