A saint's bones
May. 26th, 2021 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
boccaderlupoI dreamed we were outside some kind of rundown mansion with red brick walls, maybe two stories. The yard was full of knee-high weeds, and was enclosed by tall, unkempt shrubs. Wind moves through the trees. At the back of the lawn was a green shed that could have been a chicken coop. I was telling someone about how a saint's bones had been burned and left in there, and it had become a sacred site before falling into disrepair. The saint herself looked like a pouting Brigitte Bardot in an all-white nun's habit.
I escorted my unseen visitor to the shed, but when I opened it instead of said saint's bones there was a live lady in there, bare to the waist, with deep red skin and long hair. She had a large nose and a pointed face and exquisitely chiseled abs, and she looked confused, as if someone had trapped her in there. I hollered to my guest to help her, and ran back to the mansion where I retrieved a foxskin cloak. I ran over to the lady and covered her up and we began helping her out of the shed. Dazed, she seemed to tumble as she stepped down into the yard.
Then out from the trees came three baying dogs, all some kind of Boston terrier type. The opposite of ferocious, but they seemed intent on doing us harm. I had several knives with me, which I tossed into two of the animals, but the leader, which was encased in what looked like some kind of clown outfit, leapt at me, and I stabbed it in the belly, tumbling through the dank grasses until it breathed its last.
I escorted my unseen visitor to the shed, but when I opened it instead of said saint's bones there was a live lady in there, bare to the waist, with deep red skin and long hair. She had a large nose and a pointed face and exquisitely chiseled abs, and she looked confused, as if someone had trapped her in there. I hollered to my guest to help her, and ran back to the mansion where I retrieved a foxskin cloak. I ran over to the lady and covered her up and we began helping her out of the shed. Dazed, she seemed to tumble as she stepped down into the yard.
Then out from the trees came three baying dogs, all some kind of Boston terrier type. The opposite of ferocious, but they seemed intent on doing us harm. I had several knives with me, which I tossed into two of the animals, but the leader, which was encased in what looked like some kind of clown outfit, leapt at me, and I stabbed it in the belly, tumbling through the dank grasses until it breathed its last.
