MaevinWren: Dreams

The theater was large, wrought mostly of dark polished wood. Most fitting for the epic fantasy play we would be performing. It was somewhere between Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. Obviously my subconscious mind is not unsusceptible to advertisements. There was a main stage, and the dark wooden seats wrapped around the room creating a large rectangle. The actors, when not onstage, were able to sit in the seats on the sides. This is where I was. Apparently this was a practice run; the environment was informal, the audience was small, and prone to giving many suggestions. Indeed they said there was not enough explanation of the events taking place before the start of the play. I suppose that is a problem with acting out the second in a series of books. And so we agreed to discuss the previous events in the story line. The setting now changes to outside, at night- I am still seated to the left of the stage, sitting on a swinging seat with Khara (my best friend). This is a much more intimate setting- and we can talk with out raising our voices. A dark haired woman in front of the stage begins speaking of the story. (Unfortunately I can no longer remember what the story was- thought I remember being able to re-tale it to Tegmine when I first awoke from the dream. He doesn’t remember either) In one of her sentences she said “alien powers” instead of “magical power” and everyone- who of course adore the story, have read it many times and are quite loyal followers- jumps to correct her. She is rather annoyed by this, and the telling of the tale moves on to another individual. I am also desiring the opportunity to prove my knowledge of the story- I keep trying to go next. Indeed- I am playing one of the main characters in the story- I’m playing Ardwyne- who later becomes Ceridwynne- and later changes her identity yet again (to one I cannot remember after I awoke and the dream began to fade) and the man speaking players opposite to me- his character is...is....damn- I forgot. How embarrassing. I grab my copy of the novel out of my bag, which is hung behind the chair. Its something with a “C” ...C and it has an ‘h’, and an “ain”. Hmmmm I can remember what it looks like written but the actual name just does not come to mind. I start to swing the chair swing higher- out of nervousness I suppose. Khara notes this, and asks what I am doing. Its making her stomach a bit queasy, not to mention that it makes the chair squeak and is drawing attention to us. I am trying to slow it down at this point- with some success. (My memory of the dream skips here....) After the play there is a large party or carnival outside. The hills outside the theater (which is not in my view, but in my dream I seem to know it is there somewhere) wrap around to make a natural stadium. Dark wooden benches/seats have been set into the hillside. I am sitting in the top row and the theater is somewhere to my left. (it seems that I am sitting in the north, and the theater is to the west of me, and when I was sitting inside I was again in the north, but the stage was to the east) I am sitting next to an elderly man with a shaggy tan colored dog. I am wearing sandals and shorts and am reading a tattered copy of the book, which we just acted out as a play. Rory comes up behind me (he is my ex boyfriend- I haven’t seen him in about four years-and it seems he was acting in the play with me in this dream) and sensing him behind me I hold up a hand to him. He takes my hand in his, and I look up at him and smile. The dog sniffing at my feet draws my attention- just in time to see something fall off his nose onto my feet. I look down at it- its dark, and has some tan fur hanging off one end. I look at the dog, and the end of his snout is suddenly very bald and kinda moist looking- and I realize what I saw- I saw the dogs nose- the textured black part with some tan hair blending off the top – fall off and onto my sandaled feet! I start to move my feet away but the dog comes back, stiffs my feet again, and the nose seems to pop back into place. I am really startled by this, and look up to Rory, who is still holding my hand to see if he saw it too. But no, he was looking off at the carnival below. So I squeezed his hand to get his attention and told him that the dogs nose fell off onto my foot and then popped back on when he came back and nudged it again. Disbelief was quite evident on his face. The elderly man beside me let out a cross between a laugh and a dry cough and told me he made the fake nose- that “those damn buzzards” somehow attacked the dog and disfigured his nose, and so the dog won't be embarrassed when they go out in public, the old man had made a false nose, complete with some of the dogs hair so that it would blend in with the snout. I found this rather ingenious, if a bit odd. And the dream world fades to wakeful awareness...