dreams: November 8, 1999

sweet mango, bitter prices

I walk into a little cafe counter at night. There are several young blondes working here; they look like siblings. I feel threatened by them. I ask what is in some fruit drink. One of them holds out three big slabs of mango for me to see. I grab one and start eating it. It takes them a moment to realize it, since they're all talking and gossiping amongst themselves. I start to walk out. The fruit is delicious. It is about a foot long, in a very rectangular shape, sweet and juicy. Its color ranges from a pinky orange to a golden yellow.

I stop and realize I should offer to pay for it. I have a five-dollar bill in my hand. A young, round, blonde girl is at the cash register. She asks for $3; I think she's trying to get the most she can out of me. I say no, offering $2. We bicker. I tell her I just need change. She opens the cash register, and there is no money there. It's totally empty except for a few pennies.

a work with papaya and wild horses

I'm in a D. work in Ashland, standing on the top step of a set of bleachers in a big room. There are other groups of people on the other three sides of the room. We are singing. I get lost, not able to see what hymn we are now on. The hymn words are taped to the wall next to me. I turn my head to see them, finally being able to join in. Madhu arrives, hopping up onto the bleachers, on the other end of my bleacher step. We smile at each other.

The work abruptly ends. They didn't do a closing prayer. It feels jarring to me. I think maybe they stopped because the whole thing wasn't really working very harmoniously, and people weren't feeling any effects. Everyone leaves the room to go somewhere else.

John and I slowly follow after them. We go into the next room. I can hear their voices in the kitchen; we're all going to have dinner together. We see a table covered in clear ziplock bags of exotic fruit. John and I stop to look, commenting on how good it all looks. I reach into a bag of papaya chunks. I squeeze lime onto a piece and eat it. It reminds me of grapefruit. I realize this is dessert, so we shouldn't eat it until after dinner.

Then we are outside, in a round meadow that is surrounded by huge natural rock structures on the outside. We are up high, with a beautiful view around us. There is a tall dark-brown rock on one side of the field that looks like a skyscraper. There is a round table in the middle. It is set with plates and silverwear, covered in exquisite gourmet foot. We are hungry. I'm looking foward to eating. First there is a little ceremony going on: a small group of people enters (from the Ashland D.), and they're totally dressed up, wearing cream-colored clothes from the last century. They are driving a carriage. I want to take photos, so I stand back and try to find the right angle. My camera is silver and has zoom buttons. I take some shots. Then two or three wild horses gallop through the meadow at full speed, their manes flying back. They pass by right next to us. I accidentally take a picture of them.

- FIN -

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