City Of Dreams

IMG_0219Last night I visited the city again.

A city without a name, yet one which I visit often and know well. Where a river runs through to the ocean and killer whales beach themselves on the shore, where a walk can leave you hanging at the edge of a perilous drop, and the only way forward is to let go. Where familiar streets from other cities join together into a strange new whole, where I know the way but am often lost.

This time was no different. I had a job, and on the way home the subway did the thing it does so often, the track peeling away to turn along an unfamiliar route, leaving me stranded far from where I wanted to be. I knew how to get back, so my faceless companion and I took the walkway through the Asian market, past scented wood and spice and flowers, to end up dangling above city streets before letting go, fear and exhilaration screaming through us as we sailed down to the streets below.

I woke to the yowl of a cat in the street outside, the familiar humped shape of my husband warm comfort as I shuddered with the aftermath of the dream. Then I went to find sleep again. And I was back in my city, though this time twenty five stories up in a building that may or may not have been burning, with people who, for some unfathomable reason, wouldn’t take the stairs with me.

I woke once more, this time to my alarm.

It’s a strange place, my city of dreams, and yet I know it well. I know if I am driving that the road will be endlessly circuitous and choked with cars, never getting me to my destination. That the buildings are a mix of ancient and modern, that whales call in the blue water nearby, salt spray dashing against the stone walls and railings. If I go out of the city to the nearby mountains, another town awaits. One of stone and twisting streets, castellated walls and golden lit windows, shops filled with gleaming merchandise.

It is a place of fear and beauty, my city of dreams.

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33 thoughts on “City Of Dreams

    • Well, it’s a city I’ve dreamed about many times over the years, which is kind of strange. However, now that I’m more conscious of that fact, perhaps I can enjoy exploring it a little more. I wonder what a Dream interpreter would make of it indeed – many years ago I went to a Native American dream workshop with a tribal elder, and I have to say it was a completely profound experience. Perhaps I need to look for something similar again…

      • Please feed back what you find out if you do go down that avenue, Helen. It would be interesting to know what else happens when you visit this city in your dreams. I wonder if you’ll ever get to the situation where you can control what happens in the dream and in the city?

      • I wonder about that too. I would say there’s a story in it except Charles De Lint has already written a series of short stories about one of his characters who visits a city in her dreams. But this one is real to me, and I’ve been going there for the past twenty five years at least. It’s strange to be there and ‘recognise’ it. Maybe I will eventually be able to control things? I’ll let you know if I ever get it analysed πŸ™‚

  1. I’m interesting in the past life chat with Ali by the way. I have dreams that are…. different. Lets say that for now and wait till the rose is flowing at the bash. Repetitive dreams I am certain, are telling us something. showing…? not sure. either way. This was written STUNNINGLY. so so so so stunningly ❀

    • Oh thank you *blushes* I wrote it just after I woke up, when the dream was fresh. Went there again last night. Would be interested to find out what it means. And yes, I can foresee a deep and meaningful convo at the next bash, especially when you add rose πŸ˜‰

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