Dragon Flood

I dream I am swimming in a green river who snakes through a sunny village. Many others are in and by this river, and we are rescuing the souls of drowned children. We hear a terrible rumbling in the hills. The dam has broken and a dragon flood is roaring toward us with obliterating force. Immediately the current quickens and I grab onto a fence in the water and pull myself out. When the wings on my back and arms I could shake out in a dry moment to escape the speeding waves, I fly to a giant oak tree on the near hillside for refuge. I wrap my shaking arms and legs around the solid tree limbs as others are claimed by the waters, unable to reach them, including two of my friends. When the flood stops I fly down to the houses damaged by the swollen river, looking for whoever remains.

In another dream on this night I am being tossed downward a river, enormous and deep. Other people are there with me, and we find a net to ride in, like fish. Then we find paddles, and a canoe. I show them how to paddle against, and with, the white water.



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Candle Battle in the Haunted Mountain Teahouse

I dreamt of a Japanese-style teahouse built of wood and stone jutting out from the side of a darkly enchanted mountain. A harmless old woman lived there, the Keeper of the Keys. I and two friends were greeted by her in the tea parlor where we were served fresh-brewed strengthening potions in ceremonial cups, to carry out a mission she needed us for. She clothed us in vivid turquoise for spiritual protection. “The ghouls of this mountain have grown unexpectedly restless,” she says. “I need you to help me clean house.”

Deep into the side of the mountain tunneled the caverns behind her teahouse home. Burrowed chambers of abandoned vaults gave way to spider’s webs and the remains of small, dead beings. We came to an empty well that was a hundred feet deep, and twenty feet wide. In the middle was a hanging rope –for swinging across to the other side?

Suddenly, there appeared a monstrous humanoid skeleton thirty feet tall, swinging on the rope over the well, slashing at us with its claws. It was a terrible sight with it’s big, hollow sockets for eyes and its sinister grin.

I drew out my candlestick from my sheath, the one I have dreamt of before. In these dreams I carry it with me when we need light. The monster swings at me, but my wax candle, as if it were diamond, meets his furor with solidity and he falters. Quickly, my friends lay down a plank of wood across the well and I run out to where the menace dangles, momentarily bewildered on his rope, and I cut him down. He falls back down the hole to be seen and heard no more.

Returning to the parlor, all the little dead beings whose bodies were trapped in the tunnels become alive again, and give a cheer for us. The old woman robes us in rainbow-quilted cloaks of rejoicing designs detailing our particular powers gifted to us on our quests. The balance was restored to the mountainside and the Keeper’s tea tasted better than it ever had before.



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She Finds For Us a Way

A dream.

My horse I am riding is trying to jump us over an impossible fence. The barricade is made of something harder than stone, but barely a few feet high. What forcefield barrier is this? On one side of the divide is a freeway, and on the other side, an ancient forest. The trees in this forest are taller than the guess of humans, and beyond the reach of measurements. I cannot jump my horse over this fence, but she finds for us a way. A mob is sending battalions to catch us. But we are far above now, clothed by the forest. My horse and I jump and fly through the canopy, invisible to the eyes of the enemy.



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