Elevators and antique stores

[boccaderlupo]

I dreamed the kids had moved out and the wife and I now lived in a room above an elevator in a downtown Newark high-rise. The building itself was rounded at its four corners, with sheer walls that made little distinction between the exterior street scenes and the interior of the building, which was very narrow and consisted mostly of potted plants and escalators, or so it appeared. There were four elevators, one at each rounded corner, and our room was located above the elevator. We had a window on one side, that looked into the building, and one on the other, which looked out to the street. The issue was that the elevator was in use practically all day, so that you were constantly in the process of going up and down, up and down, without stopping (in the waking world, the wife has motion-sickness, so such an arrangement would not fly). We settled down for the evening and fell asleep, watching the floors pass by, unceasing.

*

I dreamed I was in a strip mall where the woman who recurs in my dreams as what I shall call my Jungian "anima" (on point for a Friday night (Venerdi) dream) had opened up an antique store: old painting and pians, archaic instruments, et al. I passed by and stopped in to see her, and sidled up for an embrace, but she held me at arm's length. "Remember when I talked to you about boundaries?" she asked, smiling, and continued puttering about the shop. In the dream, I remembered something to that effect, and it made me somewhat sorrowful. I bade her farewell and hit the street.