![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I dreamed I was on a wide steppe, maybe four or five football fields wide and long, at the end of which was a rather steep slope that looked like a single huge rock wedged into the ground. Everything was a deep brown, with short grasses up to your ankles that were a lush green, as if after a rain.
On the side of the rock and arrayed across the grasslands were a group of human-like gorillas that walked upright, a veritable army of them. My son was there, except he was grown now, almost a man, and had jet black hair...in short, it was difficult to recognize him. He was throwing rocks and the gorillas and making hooting sounds, basically trying to antagonize them, with the hopes of drawing their leader into a fight.
The leader himself towered above the others, maybe 20 feet tall, a swaggering King Kong figure to my son's puny Tarzan. The gorillas were clearly annoyed but also tolerant of my son's antics, but there was no telling how long their patience would last.
In the meantime, my neighbor has ascended from out of a fissure in the ground nearby. His eyes were swollen purple, and I could tell by his swaying gait and blank stare that he'd been taken by the undead. His family, who were there amongst the gorillas, as if they'd been taken hostage, welcomed my neighbor back with hugs and cries of joy. He only swayed and stared, and wouldn't reply to them, but they were so overjoyed they didn't seem to notice. Their gorilla captors, meanwhile, seemed to be trying to make sense of who this clearly ill man was and where he had emerged from.
I knew, of course. There was an army of the undead massing right beneath the ground, and they would soon emerge to enslave both gorillas and humans. I knew that we had to deescalate and unite with the gorillas to be able to face this thread from the undead, but things were looking bad now, and my son continued to rave. During a break in his hooting, I ran over, raggedy T-shirt and all, and threw and arm around his shoulders, and kissed him on the forehead. It threw him, and the gorillas started to laugh. It was a sort of diminishment for my son, who was agitated enough and shoved me away, but it seemed like the gorillas now had accepted that this was just a kid blowing off steam.
Then there was a rumbling from the underground...
On the side of the rock and arrayed across the grasslands were a group of human-like gorillas that walked upright, a veritable army of them. My son was there, except he was grown now, almost a man, and had jet black hair...in short, it was difficult to recognize him. He was throwing rocks and the gorillas and making hooting sounds, basically trying to antagonize them, with the hopes of drawing their leader into a fight.
The leader himself towered above the others, maybe 20 feet tall, a swaggering King Kong figure to my son's puny Tarzan. The gorillas were clearly annoyed but also tolerant of my son's antics, but there was no telling how long their patience would last.
In the meantime, my neighbor has ascended from out of a fissure in the ground nearby. His eyes were swollen purple, and I could tell by his swaying gait and blank stare that he'd been taken by the undead. His family, who were there amongst the gorillas, as if they'd been taken hostage, welcomed my neighbor back with hugs and cries of joy. He only swayed and stared, and wouldn't reply to them, but they were so overjoyed they didn't seem to notice. Their gorilla captors, meanwhile, seemed to be trying to make sense of who this clearly ill man was and where he had emerged from.
I knew, of course. There was an army of the undead massing right beneath the ground, and they would soon emerge to enslave both gorillas and humans. I knew that we had to deescalate and unite with the gorillas to be able to face this thread from the undead, but things were looking bad now, and my son continued to rave. During a break in his hooting, I ran over, raggedy T-shirt and all, and threw and arm around his shoulders, and kissed him on the forehead. It threw him, and the gorillas started to laugh. It was a sort of diminishment for my son, who was agitated enough and shoved me away, but it seemed like the gorillas now had accepted that this was just a kid blowing off steam.
Then there was a rumbling from the underground...
