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Dream Journal

Late for the Wagon Wheel Waterpark

Spent a good long time at a waterpark, Christina Olson is there. Somehow we miss a bunch of activities, and so I agree to meet Christina again the next day. She expects me there at 8:30 am for some reason and I’m trying for hours to get motivated out of bed, receiving intermittent texts the whole time, but end up getting there by noon anyway. Yet she seems unexplainably unperturbed when I finally arrive.

I discover, in an area that’s part of an archeological exhibit from before the waterpark was built, a busted-up wagon wheel. It has only four spokes left, in an arrangement that resembles a rhombus. I know it’s a valuable artifact, but I end up putting it inside a large glass of Coca-Cola and the damn thing dissolves like a tooth in a science fair project.

Categories
Dream Journal

Ogliamelanschmertz

Ogliamelanschmertz — a word that sticks out from this dream, no remembrance of its meaning.

I’m reading a story I wrote, through car speakers, about a letter addressed to African American survivors living in the Great Dismal Swamp. The US Postal Service sends in a young Russian guy and there’s a documentary about his incredibly difficult efforts, during which I see first-person through his eyes. The expedition finds a glossy, smooth, rusted iron cookpot. It’s a splendid find, but it’s as far into the story as I got. I ask [dream] Lynae and she says honestly she doesn’t think the story has much merit.