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Phantom city
Sep. 7th, 2023 01:05 pmI dreamed I was in what seemed like a rather traditional-looking Catholic church, with dark wood carvings throughout. The service, such as it was, did not involve the Eucharist, and portions of it seemed out of place. I left feeling perplexed and unnerved.
*
I dreamed our friends A. and A. from Connecticut by way of Jersey City had moved up the block from us with their children. Here there were decrepit homes and buildings galore, opening onto swamplands that lead into the meadowlands and the Hackensack River beyond. They had somehow managed to purchase an old tumbledown former funeral home for a song and were in the process of renovating it as a residential. We walked over to survey the scene. The place was a dump, and there was a cypress tree literally growing through the roof of the building. I had a number of questions: Was this thing structurally sound? Wasn't it going to be creepy living in an abandoned funeral home? And so on.
I had a letter in a pink enveloped, and went walking through the meadowlands to find a post office. I slid down the side of a riverbank and found myself underneath the Turnpike, where a phantom city had formed. It looked like it was once proper structures, but a shantytown had arose around them, with some people living in shipping containers. A sandstorm kicked up, and people went about with scarves covering their faces. I tried various places, including one store that seemed to be an old-time ice cream parlor; the soda jerk said if I deposited the mail in a bin on the counter it would be picked up soon, but couldn't guarantee any particular time frame. I dropped the envelope in and wandered the desolate paths of the "city," looking for a way back home.
*
I dreamed our friends A. and A. from Connecticut by way of Jersey City had moved up the block from us with their children. Here there were decrepit homes and buildings galore, opening onto swamplands that lead into the meadowlands and the Hackensack River beyond. They had somehow managed to purchase an old tumbledown former funeral home for a song and were in the process of renovating it as a residential. We walked over to survey the scene. The place was a dump, and there was a cypress tree literally growing through the roof of the building. I had a number of questions: Was this thing structurally sound? Wasn't it going to be creepy living in an abandoned funeral home? And so on.
I had a letter in a pink enveloped, and went walking through the meadowlands to find a post office. I slid down the side of a riverbank and found myself underneath the Turnpike, where a phantom city had formed. It looked like it was once proper structures, but a shantytown had arose around them, with some people living in shipping containers. A sandstorm kicked up, and people went about with scarves covering their faces. I tried various places, including one store that seemed to be an old-time ice cream parlor; the soda jerk said if I deposited the mail in a bin on the counter it would be picked up soon, but couldn't guarantee any particular time frame. I dropped the envelope in and wandered the desolate paths of the "city," looking for a way back home.
