Dreams: By Tag: Bridge

Friday, July 09, 2010: Magic Carpet, Sunken Bridge

He hovered in the air, seated cross-legged on a small rectangular carpet, no larger than two feet by three feet. His small dog sat on his lap. There was another person nearby, seated on a similar carpet. It was night. They flew near two brick buildings and streetlights.

When day came, they flew towards Lake Quinsigamond. They saw that Lake Quinsigamond was overflowing its banks. A section of bridge was completely submerged.

Monday, October 17, 2005: End of the World

I was walking along a sidewalk. I was driven by an inner voice, or a memory of an inner voice, a prophetess in my head. The voice told me to go to a certain place.

As I traveled, the voice told me that as a sign, I would come across a great rift. As I walked along the sidewalk, I saw that ahead of me was a deep chasm. On the bridge that crossed the chasm was a girl who was struggling to walk a german shepherd. She didn’t appear friendly to me, so I quickly moved on.

I came upon a house. A woman was selling Halloween ornaments that her gifted daughter had made. I examined them; they were excellent sculptures of white ghosts. As I was offering to buy them, I realized, by the voice, that the world was coming to an end.

I told the woman about this; she asked how I knew, and I told her it was a gift. She revealed that her daughter was similarly gifted, and that as for herself, she was both a scientist and a witch. She said that a meteor was approaching, a planet killer.

We watched from a window overlooking the city as the sun was blotted out and the sky grew black. The stars were radiant, and an ominous shadow tumbled against them.

Together, we tried a ritual of science and magic to turn the meteor away from us. She wore a colorful costume and danced in a circle of lights. I focused my attention upon a screen, with pinpoints of lights upon it. The lights clustered and dispersed as I concentrated upon them.

But the ritual failed. We knew intuitively that her daughter opposed us and caused the ritual to fail.

Saturday, November 13, 2004: High Road, Dungeon

I was walking down the sidewalk along Hamilton Street. My gaming group was with me. We wanted to cross the street, but as we turned to do so, the street appeared to be far below the sidewalk. There was a wooden bridge spanning the two grassy hillsides. As they tried to cross the bridge, it changed to resemble a bare scaffolding, with hardly a plank to cross upon. Some of the gaming group tried to cross the narrow spans like high-wire circus performers. Other hung onto the spans, saying that they could probably just jump down without getting hurt. I exclaimed, “Are you crazy? You'll die if you jump from that height! And if the fall doesn't kill you, the traffic will.” When it came time for me to cross the street, I continued walking down the sidewalk, until the hill descended to street level, and I crossed.

After crossing the street, I brought my gaming group to a dungeon that I built out of a large warehouse. The place looked like it was made from wood, metal, and stone, but most of it was fake; paint and papier-mâché. There was a pit full of doors and windows that had been removed. We passed through a pair of swinging double-doors. In the large room before us was a low wall. We could hear voices coming from beyond the low wall. Two kids dressed like goblins were vandalizing the dungeon. I picked up a shield and hefted a large metal hammer into my right hand. My wife approached them to speak with them, wondering what language they spoke. They tried to attack her, so I interposed myself between the attackers and my wife. I swung my heavy hammer at them. One of the goblins slashed at my neck with a long jagged knife. It must have been a surface wound, because I survived.