Malleus Maleficarum!
075 – Flight of the Alligator

I always dream I fly in color.

Actually, once I dreamed that I was in a Stephen King book which doesn’t exist in real life, but it involved a small town where everyone had to x-ray all their possessions for some reason — I got the vague feeling that there was a rumor about some hidden treasure which might have been hidden in some mundane object. Anyway, to this end, everyone brought piles of junk to the local prison to be x-rayed.

In this dream, I was a 12 year old boy who had come to the prison with a pile of stuff to be x-rayed. I placed my things on a conveyer belt and watched them go through the X-ray machine. As I was leaving, I received an ominous warning from the sheriff, a greasy man with dark sunglasses, a skeletal grin and no nose. As in his nose was gone and you could see the bone. He also had a pencil-thin mustache. It wasn’t really a warning, though. He just laughed this high-pitched, squealy laugh as I left and I knew that I was marked. I was marked to have The Dream.

That night when I went to bed (in the dream, I mean. I dreamed that I went o bed), I dreamed (meaning that I dreamed that I dreamed) that I was the lone passenger in an antique train pulled by a creaky old steam locomotive. I felt the train pull away from the station but, instead of going along the tracks, it rose into the air and flew. If I looked out the window, I could see the train’s eventual destination: The Moon. The moon in this dream had a face like a giant grinning skull and it was apparent that the train would eventually fly right into the skull moon’s nasal cavity.

I “awoke” before that happened. I mean, I awoke from this dream within a dream but I was still asleep. Every night, I had the same dream — being the sole passenger on this empty train as it made its slow steady way through the frigid night toward a grinning skull moon. Everytime the train was closer to its destination. This continued for years and years and I knew, the way you do in dreams, that this train journey was the measure of my life, like the proverbial hourglass whose sands constantly trickle away. I knew that the night that the train finally reached the moon would be the night that I died. I dreamed that this dream hung over head for all of my days on earth, tainting every waking moment and souring all joy in my life.

It was actually kind of poetic, the way it happened in the dream. But I don’t remember how I phrased this revelation in my dream. That’s too bad.

When I woke up, I just scribbled down “XRAY SCARY SHERIFF SKULL MOON” on my notepad before falling asleep again. It’s surprising that I remember anything at all now!

Another time, I dreamed that it was my birthday and I was having a huge garden party and you guys were all there and I was drinking toasts to you. And also all the drinks were star Trek themed.

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