dream engine

The dream engine raises the waters

Whether it was global warming or an asteroid hitting Antarctica or whatever else I don’t know, but the level of the oceans was rising a lot very fast, something like two or three meters in a matter of days. I was in Rotterdam, taking various trams and buses to inexplicable places, mostly in company but

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The dream engine gets me bitten

Three separate parts, I think, though I can’t find the joins now. We went to a hotel that must have been the one where, in waking life, we inadvertently booked a room for the night following Kingsday in the center of a major city so I’ll be surprised if we get any sleep. The dream

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The dream engine serves yummy food

I’ve known for as long as I remember that I can smell and taste in my dreams, though apparently not everybody can. There are even people who don’t dream in colour! The only dream I’ve ever had that I noticed was in black and white was a nightmare, laid out like an illustrated newspaper article,

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The dream engine plays the game

But first there was the house that someone I sort of knew lived in, next door or next to that. The landlord/head-of-house (it was a kind of halfway house for boys who wanted to live on their own but couldn’t quite manage it yet, and/or boys newly released from prison) was away and had locked

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The dream engine goes under the mountain

My mother has appeared in dreams several times since she died, but my father never before that I can remember. But this time he and I were on a tram together, going on a trip to a mountain. It was a fairly low mountain, not very steep, a bit like the Gro├če Hermannsberg. It looked

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The dream engine does the voices

It started in church, in what appeared to be a lay service (activity in the choir but not in the altar). There were at least 3 people in the congregation apart from the choir: Prima, and an autistic young man I also know in waking life, and a middle-aged woman I’ve only ever seen in

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The dream engine does some magic

At a school where that wasn’t actually the curriculum, so we had to do it on the sly. For that the magic students had disguises as nineteen-forties American Jewish boys (for some reason the magic students were all male though the school had female students and teachers and administrative personnel too. I think I was

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The dream engine sends me to the museum

With my other half and one or more of my daughters (I faintly remember Tertia, but Secunda may also have been there) and someone else (male) who I don’t recall, it might have been a friend or my father-in-law. I think it was nominally the Rijksmuseum (not the Rijks Museum. I’m pedantic that way.) but

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The dream engine calls me by the wrong name

By Secunda’s name, to be exact. It was the tall woman really, who waylaid me somewhere in the head office of Facebook that I happened to be visiting. I was terrified the whole time that I’d be tempted –by the convention effect, all resistance gone because you’re immersed– to get an account after all, and

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The dream engine provides printout

But not until we’d got all the computer stuff out of the way: a meeting of creative people, possibly Krita users, at our house. When I was walking outside afterwards, still full of bounce and inspiration, a small man in a wheelchair stopped me and asked if I could tutor a girl in maths. I

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