Teleporting and Trashlandia
Apr. 24th, 2021 12:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
boccaderlupoI dreamed it was nighttime and I was running up the steps from a PATH Station in Jersey City, two at a time. Jersey City, another City by the Sea that I find myself frequenting in the dream world. Across the street lit from within was a bodega. I ran inside and grabbed what seemed to be a plate of freshly cooked Adobo chicken wings and took off without paying, the owner of the place racing behind me crying out.
I bounded from the shop and slid like grease down a sewer drain. Someone said: "He's escaping in the sewers!" and I knew that, down here, you could teleport anywhere else in town. "There's ghosts and wizards down here," I told the witness. I vanished.
*
I dreamed I had emerged from a bar with windows on three sides on a waterfront, bright sunny day. The walls were sheer, square blocks of glass, some of which stood open to let the breeze in. It was, in the dream, at least, Philadelphia. Had I teleported here from the previous dream? I didn't have any conspicuous chicken wings, at least. I met my wife outside on the street and we began to walk past potted plants and another outdoor restaurant; we were going to meet up with her folks. At the edge of the restaurant seating area, surrounded by Secret Service agents, was President Biden with an advisor who, disturbingly, looked like a more in-shape version of Chris Christie. Biden said to him: "....so I take the apple and I just throw it over my shoulder. And I come back an hour later, and guess what? There he is, eating an apple!" The faux Christie laughed uproariously, and even I had to admit it seemed pretty funny, but then again, anecdotes and jokes in dreams always get the benefit of the doubt.
I bounded from the shop and slid like grease down a sewer drain. Someone said: "He's escaping in the sewers!" and I knew that, down here, you could teleport anywhere else in town. "There's ghosts and wizards down here," I told the witness. I vanished.
*
I dreamed I had emerged from a bar with windows on three sides on a waterfront, bright sunny day. The walls were sheer, square blocks of glass, some of which stood open to let the breeze in. It was, in the dream, at least, Philadelphia. Had I teleported here from the previous dream? I didn't have any conspicuous chicken wings, at least. I met my wife outside on the street and we began to walk past potted plants and another outdoor restaurant; we were going to meet up with her folks. At the edge of the restaurant seating area, surrounded by Secret Service agents, was President Biden with an advisor who, disturbingly, looked like a more in-shape version of Chris Christie. Biden said to him: "....so I take the apple and I just throw it over my shoulder. And I come back an hour later, and guess what? There he is, eating an apple!" The faux Christie laughed uproariously, and even I had to admit it seemed pretty funny, but then again, anecdotes and jokes in dreams always get the benefit of the doubt.
