Wrap the night around me/Blanket of black on my back...

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

[Wednesday night October 21st]

I close my eyes and fall into the dark behind my eyelids. I drift for the first little while and then I come to rest on the shores of a beach. Pull myself up onto the glowing white sand and look up at the glowing tree shaped hole in the sky. The thought comes to me that I'm dreaming. So I stand up and test it by causing a huge fish to jump out of the water and tell me it's a dream. The fish looks like a giant bottom fish from the river and its voice is thick and slurred. But it did say what I had told it to.

Now that I know I'm dreaming I have a choice to make, do I stay and play with stuff here or go walking and see what other people are dreamin?.  I play with my dream for a bit, changing the water for beer and playing with the shape of the light source. Finally come to the conclusion that of course other people's dreams are more fun because it's more challenging. Here I can do anything, out there I have to fit in a bit with the dream first before I can make significant changes.

This thought instantly brings up a road in front of me and I set off down it. The road is nothing special, just a dirt track thumping under my boots. I shift the bags on my shoulders and then dismiss them. I don't need baggage for a dreamwalk. I guess I've been on the road so long the physical memory is bleeding into my dreaming.


Reach the barrier of my dreamspace and with the briefest of glances go right through into the nearest dream. Let's see what's out here tonight.

[open to Frances' character]

[Closed]

Comments

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Hollow seems surprised at the second name. Has a question of his own, She give up the 'Boy, or she still runnin' that too?

"Don't know. Yet." I flash a grin at him. But he's not paying attention to me it's all for the huge tree in the middle of the clearing. He takes the tea light from the glass and then puts it in his mouth.

Light pours out from eyes and mouth. The smoky shape becomes a huge scarecrow with a blazing jackolantern head. Involuntarily, I take a step back.

I want that smoke real bad again, plus I want to look casual. So I reach into my coat and pull out my cigs, tap one out and have it light up on the way to my lips.

I take a drag, exhale and only then say, "Jumping the gun a bit aren't we? Halloween's not for awhile yet."

[jack-hollow.livejournal.com]

Kid pulls out and lights a coffin nail. Draws on it and it goes out in his mouth, but he's still got a lungful of smoke and pours that out. "Jumping the gun a bit aren't we? Halloween's not for awhile yet."

"Soon enough," I say, and my grin's ear to ear, candle flame leaping merrily inside. Twenty-first of October, and I can feel the night rushing closer. Everything I need to get to's so damn far away, but maybe, maybe...

There's little glimmers of light hanging around the tree. Can't see them but I know they're there, like the people in the Tavern. Touch the bark of the tree and it's warm, good solid feel to it. "G'wan and tell Mab-- Sheriff Devarn that I'm tryin' to come back," I say. "Hermia too." Doin' my best, here. What I was made for.

"And don't smoke out here," I add over my shoulder. "Last thing this place needs is a fire."

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Soon enough, The giant jackolantern says through its firey grin. He reaches out to touch the tree. G'wan and tell Mab-- Sheriff Devarn that I'm tryin' to come back,Hermia too. He tells me, a clear dismissal.
And don't smoke out here, he adds over his shoulder. Last thing this place needs is a fire.

As if he hadn't made that clear enough by snuffing my cigarette almost as soon as it was lit. I give him a stiff nod. "Fine. I'll deliver your messages. But you'll owe me a beer an a sandwich in the waking world. Dream well, Deputy."

I raise one hand in farewell and then step back to my road fading away from the clearing and its unsettling occupant.

[jack-hollow.livejournal.com]

Kid wanders off and I stand there, one hand still on the tree. Lookin' up into the branches. There's lights up there, but they're like the people in the Tavern--I can't see 'em. Just know they're there.

Stop closer into the tree and put my hands on either side of my head and lift, and then I'm in the branches, watchin'. Dozens of carved pumpkins in the branches beside me, not like fruit but perched like kids or owls. And the eyes. All the eyes, warm and steady and smilin' in the night.