Dreaming of Ancient Rome, Peculiar Creatures and Old Flames
A young woman and I sat looking at a soldier leaning over a fountain. The water ran smoothly over his face and neck. Her eyes admired the muscles in his arms and legs. I admired the environment. The Colosseum and the open plan of the city. Rome. Beautiful in its ancient glory.
The blaze along the Colosseum seemed to reach the sky. She held my hand tightly, but the burning had formed into tiny fireballs forcing us to separate and dodge the circular flames alone. The ground began to crack and I watched as the sandals melted off her feet exposing the pretty pale flesh to the heat. I leaped away from the flames fully aware of the nature of the dream. But I could not stop the tears.
The earth swallowed her whole and the heat sweltered as my body received its core in one simultaneous thrust.
The creature felt heavy against my chest. He was breathing hard, hands in my underarms trying to playfully tickle me. But it was too rough. His claws were shaving against my skin and causing it to bleed. It stung only slightly before I managed to heave him off and focus on the expectation. If I don’t want it to hurt, it won’t.
But the equilibrium of the dream was shaky. The colors seeped into one another making it difficult to see where he was. When the black and red tones dominated my vision he came forward and planted a wet kiss over my lips, laughing.
Alone in an unknown dream city. Abandoned warehouses. Nightclubs and jazz bars. A few blocks away I saw a blinking light coming from the top floor of a building. I’d been there before, but this realization did not come until the apartment door was opened by a short man wearing a tweed suit.
“Is Star home?” I asked.
“Who’s asking?” he replied, tapping his left foot against the unpolished floor. His right index finger combed the thin line of hair growing over his lip.
Like the dreams of the last few days my impatience did not stir within. It became verbal and almost nasty.
“None of your damned business, my man. Now, are you going to get out of my way?” I said, taking two steps forward.
He planted both feet firmly in front of him and crossed his arms.
“Do your best,” he said.
I looked at the window behind him and willed his body backwards. He saw it coming and giggled slightly before breaking through the glass. No harm done.
“What the hell’s going on in here?” said Star, tying the robe around her waist.
“Who’s the doorman?” I asked, letting the pangs of jealously fall away from me.
“Oh, geez, what did you do this time?” she asked, coming forward for our usual embrace.
“Don’t worry. He’ll be back. Just a little annoyed that’s all. I got back from Paris yesterday and I haven’t really slept all that well.”
“You staying long? I have a gig in an hour.”
“I’m dead tired, Star. And I don’t seem to be able to maintain the stability of the dream. I didn’t even recognize this building when I saw it,” I admitted.
“Well, get some real sleep,” she said. “Without all the dreaming. Maybe that’ll help.”
From the window I watched her cross the street, purse in hand. The sound of her clicking heels continued until the dream faded into early morning light.