The waiting room


Two dreams in the wee hours…

In the first I had 4 pet rabits and 4 pet canaries in nice large ornate cages in my house – more apartments really – but my house was one I lived in before the one I live in now: an old trailer actually.  Jeb, uncharacteristically, said it would be okay if I let my pets run around loose in the house as both are known to be fairly easy to housebreak except for the bunny habit of chewing cords.  So I turned them all loose in the house and enjoyed watching them have fun as much as playing with them.

What was weird about this is how strenuously the real life Jeb objects to having house bunnies or birds, much less dogs and cats.  Guaranteed he’d have a cow over any running loose in the house.  Yet in the dream, he actually invited them to do so.

In the second dream I was entering a large and complicated big city with my family on foot thinking how lost we’d be here if not for having been given very specific directions in the form of a little booklet about the sizze of a passport.  Directions would appear on each page only as we’d got to the point where we needed to know what came next.  I kept it in my purse and glanced it when we got to each check point.  Even though we were travelling with a crowd of people that seemed to be headed in the same direction, we didn’t take anything for granted.

We walked right down the center of wide clean modern avenues because there was no vehicle traffic here.  There had been at some point in the recent past, but now any vehicles left were parked by the curbsides.

Our route took us up a hill and past a large amusement park that, far from looking abandoned, was completely set up for business and sparkling clean as though read to start any minute, but it was motionless.  We all looked rather wistfully at it, wishing we could stop and play.  I for one wondered how good a rollercoaster and log jam ride it had.  Those are my favorite rides.

Just over the crest of the hill and past the amusement park, the road continued on and parallel to it was the great open maw of… like a sink hole?  A big open hole in the side of the hill with a narrow track spirralling down its dark throat.  Some people went past this, sticking to the road.  we turned and went with another group of people down into the hole.

The edge of the track was held in place with well cemented boulders yet there were plants too: soft ferns, grass, and gorgeous wildflowers, while far below could be heard the sound of rushing water, the limestone fresh scent of it rising up to us. Smiling, I turned to my daughter Amy and her teenaged daughter Vanessa (who in real life is only 2) and said, “This looks like the entrance to Fairyland or the palace of the Mountain King doesn’t it?”  They agreed and the very idea seemed to give us new energy, a second wind.

Down deep, the track ended at the mouth of a cavern.  We went in and the rough stone floor beneath our feet gradually changed to smooth white marble.  A huge crystal chandelier full of lit candles hung over our heads.  Lit candles were also held in the brazen hands of gargoyle shapes wall sconces along the wall.  This was the palace of the Mountain King indeed!  Two huge doors (like 15 feet high) carved of spicewood and adorned with polished brass and semi precious stones swung open before us as if on their own – automatic I guess – and on the other side was a comfy waiting room that we filed into.

The room had no apparent exits except for, on one wall, what we took to be the false fronts of a little Bavarian villiage for dwarfs like I recall seeing in some buffet restaurants when I was little, sometimes animated with mechanical dwarves and animals and water wheels on the fake mills.  These false fronts had almost no animation except for the de rigor water wheel on one side and a waterfall made to look like a straight vertical (as opposed to horizontal stair stepped) fish ladder in the center between two false fronts, one made to look like a little dress shop, the other a general store.  Their conjoined eaves and fake front roofs hid the top of the waterfall from sight. 

Right up there with curious children, I peered into the fake shop windows and tried every door in the fake village.  None opened.

I settled with my family on one of the many sofas facing the false fronts, Amy and Vanessa laying their heads on my shoulders on either side.  Beside Amy, Jeb asked me, “Now what?”

I took another look at the book.  In large letters it said “WAIT.” I shrugged and said, “We wait.”

So we waited and Waited and WAITED, some people filling time with quiet chatting, and one by one fell asleep. 

Even as my eyes drifted shut, it was as though I could see through them to that strange verticle fish ladder and realized after a moment what was so strange about it:  there were fish swimming up it and they weren’t mechanical; they were real gravity defying fish, powever salmon or trout.

I floated up out of my sleeping body and swam through the air to them and followed their course up the fish ladder to the top of the waterfall.  Under the eaves I could see the cutaway it flowed out of and… the lake it flowed into as though gravity were reversed here.

Sure enough the dark underground but faintly glowing lake extended out over where the ceiling of the waiting room would be 15 feet below/above it.  Curious, I skimmed its serene and quietly chuckling surface and serendipitiously spotted a gold ring beneath its shallow surface.

I dove into the cool water and retrieved the ring, then made my way way back up the waterfall and down into the waiting room.

By body literally sucked my soul back into it faster than I could manage to stop it, but the ring was still in my hand when I opened my eyes and unclapsed it.

It wasn’t a finger ring.  That surprised me.  But no, it was one of the little flip top key ring thingies with a short length of light chain dangling from it, broken where it had been attacked to some ornament or toy or “lucky” rabbit’s foot (not very lucky for the rabbit!).

Advertisements

About Ampbreia

I'm an ex-Pentacostal, ex-Muslim, ecclectic Agnostic with slightly Wiccan leanings. I am not affiliated with any organized religion or political platform, but I do believe in magic and all things wise and wonderful. I work as an admin in a calibration lab. I've published 2 books so far this year: Lost in Foreign Passions: Love and betrayal, passion and loss in the heart of an alien land (a memoir of my time as a Muslimah and living in Iran for a year), written under my previous married name, Debra Kamza, and Dream Lover (a paranormal romance, the tale of witch that summons her favorite character out of a Bewitched spin-off and the actor who plays him as well). I'm constantly writing stories and poems, thoughts and dreams, and quite a few opinions - many of which are not popular but oh well. Bite me. I'm interested in art, animals, the paranormal, and people. I love to dance, all sorts, but have been studying belly dance since 2006 and LOVE it! I love anime too and love dressing up and going to conventions. My writing runs the gummut of historical, science fiction, fantasy, romance, and erotica. Beware: I may not be safe reading for work. Just saying....
This entry was posted in Thoughts and Dreams and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s