Archive for dream

Tropical Igloo

Posted in Lucerne Village with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on September 21, 2012 by javedbabar

Mixed race couples aren’t strange – we’ll all be mixed race one day – but this one stood out. Dimpy, Lucerne’s part-time Registrar of Weddings, looked at them but not too hard. Her job was to make them feel comfortable first and then to grill them, to discover if they were getting married for the right reasons. Everybody wanted to live in Arcadia and there were increasing numbers of sham marriages that were for immigration rather than romantic purposes.

The woman’s ethnicity was hard to define – either Caribbean or African, or maybe South American, though she could be South East Asian. Her skin was brown but also golden. She had big lips and eyes, and a small nose with a diamond stud. Her eyes were electric blue, but that could be contact lenses. When she smiled, her eyes and face shone. She was a ravishing beauty; she could have any man she wanted.

Then why choose this tall white man with a moustache, who looked like a shabby bank manager? He also looked ten years older than her.

Dimpy chatted to them together, as she always did, and then asked the lady to leave the room. Separate interviews yield the best results.

She had once considered becoming a lawyer. Maybe she would have been good at it. It would have been more money and more regular work. Right now she was doing three jobs just to make ends meet.

The man lifted up the back of his pin-striped jacket in a peculiar fashion, sat down and smiled. His moustache seemed like a caterpillar yawning and stretching, and his ears held small caterpillars too. A small forest sprouted from beneath his collars. She asked him how he had met his fiancée.

“Before I tell you that, I would like to update you on some back story.” He had a faded, but polished, British accent. “My grandfather worked for the Foreign Service and lived in many tropical lands, including Jamaica, Ethiopia, Surinam and Indonesia. However my father started a small business and I followed in his footsteps, and I have never had the opportunity to travel much. I only ever dreamed about these places; they were so lush and exotic. Sometimes the dreams were so intense they made me shake; sometimes they made me cry; sometimes…”

Dimpy didn’t like interrupting clients, but if he carried on like this she’d be here all day. She said, “Thank you for the…”

“I’ve only just started,” he said. “Don’t you want to hear the story?”

“I do want to hear it, but I’m afraid that I haven’t got time. I have to ask you many more questions, and then your fiancée, and we have forms to complete.”

“Okay, I will speed it up. I began to dream of women from those places, bright women with dark skin, who were filled with sunshine. So when I met Susan in the city – you’ve seen what she looks like – she blew me away. It was love at first sight. We would like to get married in Lucerne, as Susan has fallen in love with this place.”

Dimpy wondered if he loved her really. Was he fantasising, dreaming, projecting? She completed her questions and then asked him to leave the room, and invited Susan back in.

Susan said, “Sometimes I think this man is crazy. He literally worships me, and calls me his golden goddess. He says that I’m his dream come true, and treats me better than any man I’ve ever known. Did he tell you about his tropical dreams? He tells everyone. I have dreams too, about the Arctic. I’ve always lived in hot places and never seen more than a touch of frost. In the dreams I am with somebody hairy, wearing furs, cutting blocks of snow to build an igloo. Snow whirls around us like a tornado.”

Dreamtime Pillow

Posted in Mystical Experience, Unknown with tags , , , , , , , on May 26, 2012 by javedbabar

Alli’s allergies were getting worse. Her doctor gave her many tests but couldn’t identify anything specific. He said it was GHD: General Hypersensitivity Disorder, and gave her a long list of “precautions against allergens”.

She cut all nuts and grains from her diet, avoided dogs, cats, and horses, hoovered her room daily, used mattress, duvet, and pillow protectors, and changed her linens twice-weekly. No peanut butter or bread was torture initially, and not stroking her friend’s pets made her sad, but after a while they became habitual. None of these “precautions against allergens” really seemed to work though. They had only marginal effects. Alli faced the fact that she would be puffy-eyed, sore-throated, blocked-nosed, scratchy-skinned, and always sneezing for the rest of her life, or at least till she became an adult. Her doctor said that many allergies disappeared when you were eighteen.

One day she saw an online ad for a special pillow. The Dreamtime Pillow was made of a unique material containing anti-allergens. Its memory foam adapted to your heat and weight, and was organic, fair-trade, local, and made by certified professionals, all over eighteen years of age. There was a double-money-back guarantee, meaning that if it didn’t help you sleep more soundly, they would give you twice your money back. Alli used her mom’s credit card to order one immediately, and the Dreamtime Pillow arrived the next day.

There were clear instructions not to cover the pillow, not even with a pillowcase. For maximum effectiveness, you should sleep with it touching your head. It was more a cushion than a full size pillow, so Alli put her usual pillow beneath it to avoid straining her neck. She remembered settling in to sleep, and then whoom! waking up the next morning. There was no dozing off, or easing out of slumber; she had fallen like a log and slept right through.

“Good morning, love,” said her mom. “How was your new pillow?”

“I don’t know,” said Alli, rubbing her eyes out of habit rather than need.

“I slept really well, and my nose and throat seem better, but…”

“But what darling? Did you have a bad dream?”

“That’s what feels strange, mum.” Alli stretched towards her for a hug. “I didn’t have any dreams. I always have dreams and remember them when I wake up, and sometimes change them while I’m still dozing. But I don’t remember anything at all this morning. I feel kind of empty.”

Her mom said, “That’s good though, isn’t it love? You usually feel bloated, sort of over-full, and now you feel empty. Maybe that pillow is helping your allergies.”

Alli decided to stick with the pillow. She used it all week and slept better than ever, but the feeling of emptiness remained. Where had her dreams gone?”

Alli woke one morning with her head fatter than ever. Her eyes wept, throat itched, nose ran, skin crawled, and she began sneezing immediately. Her allergies were really bad. Wasn’t her new pillow working anymore? Wait a minute, where was her new pillow? She saw that it was gone.

Allis’ mom was really angry with her. “I know it made you feel strange, but you shouldn’t have thrown it away. We could have got double our money back. That’s the last time you buy something on my card.”

Her mom wouldn’t believe that the pillow had disappeared. Alli decided to investigate the matter herself. She skipped school and took a bus to the City, and went to the pillow company’s store. Maybe they gave refunds for missing pillows. “I’ve come about the Dreamtime Pillow,” she said to the salesman.

“Ah! We have the perfect pillow for you Miss, just in. It’s pre-filled with dreams. All yours for the taking. But before buying it, why don’t you test this empty one. That’s right, just close your eyes…”

Alli was asleep immediately. She didn’t see the salesman press a red button beneath his desk, alerting the Dream Lab at the back of the store. They would be delighted to have a dream-subject personally available. The Returns Dept – whose job it was to retrieve dream-filled pillows at night – were always short on customer information.