Last night, I had an awesome dream. It wasn’t a sex dream; it was a love dream.
I dreamt I was a young blond with naturally curly hair. Sort of like Tess from Roswell. With a ragtag group of survivors, I was crossing the jungle landscape of a post-apocalyptic world. In the distance was a large, multi-story apartment complex. We were hoping to reach the building to see if there were any survivors or salvageable supplies, but between us and the building lurked a number of dangerous animals, including lions that were lounging about.
We decided that showing fear would be a mistake. We tiptoed through the menagerie, giving the lions as much room as possible. We could sense the lions’ eyes on us. The last few hundred yards, we broke into a run, me with a baby pressed against my body. When we reached the doorway, we were greeted by a guard; we convinced him to let us in.
As soon as we were inside, a woman offered to take the baby so I could clean up. It led to a conversation I find hilarious at its realism.
Woman: Here, I’ll take your baby. You look tired.
Me: It’s not my baby.
Woman: Oh. (Looking at baby.) How long have you been taking care of it?
Me: A few months. The others wanted to abandon it in the woods.
Woman: Well, don’t worry, I’ll have the little darling back to you as soon as you’ve rested.
Me: Don’t worry. I don’t want it. I don’t really like babies.
(Woman looks horrified. I never see the baby again.)
We were given a tour of the building, and one of the first areas we saw was the pool. (Don’t ask me how a post-apocalyptic settlement managed to maintain the pool’s pH balance.) As we walked up, a chubby gamer boy was walking out of the pool. He pulled on a black and red tshirt, and my dream persona was instantly shy and in love. At the same time, she/I was introduced to the villain of the dream, a cocky jerk who decided he wanted to possess her/me. He only showed up a couple of times, because I guess my brain decided the love parts of the dream were more important.
At night, in the common sleeping area, I stared at this young man, who was always wearing the red and black shirt. I would start the night facing away from him, and when I thought it was safe, I would roll over and watch him safely. Little did I know he usually spent the first part of the night staring at my back in lovesick awe.
He was the settlement’s handyman, and I was their fierce and sassy historian who didn’t take crap from anyone.
One night, when I rolled over, he was still staring at me. We stared at each other in the dark the rest of the night.
The next day, he tried to flirt with me, which I was really receptive to. The flirtations escalated to the point of making the other people in the settlement want to barf. At night, we slept nestled in each other’s arms like little lovebirds. Eventually, the settlement received so many complaints about our saccharine sweet relationship, we had to apply for coupledom and one of the separate apartments set aside for couples.
That’s about the point I woke up.
I think there’s a novel in there somewhere.