1. I lived in a crammed room with my mother and brother. Our ages were off – I was 19 and he was 10. The room was light and clean, but stuffed to the ceiling with various objects, leaving just a narrow U-shaped path. My corner behind the wardrobe was mostly filled with books and boxes. I sat there with my laptop, studying Finnish. I knew I had a girlfriend in the dream and mother was happy that I pose no competition for the affections of potential step-fathers. My brother got a white baby goat that shed its fur everywhere. I got him ready for school and hoovered the threadbare carpet as far as I could reach.
Then I just left and went travelling. Outside the house the dirt path went steeply downwards towards the river. Two men in orange overalls were fixing the bridge, one nailing boards to the top and the other holding the whole construction propped up from where he stood in the river. For some reason, they had fished out all the fish and dropped them on the path. Their fins were the same orange colour as the repairmen’s overalls. They didn’t know what those fish are called and I told them it’s perch. I passed them, trying not to step on any.
I went on to find a train to Omsk. While waiting for it by the railway, I saw numerous diggers that seemed to consist solely of caterpillar tracks removing the top layer of soil. The terrain they left behind was almost completely flat with some shallow bright blue puddles.
I met Methos in Omsk, in a huge barren stone hall. There was literally nothing in it; the only light came from narrow slits under the ceiling, about 50 feet up. Not that it mattered, as we held each other and talked for what felt like a very long time. The conversation was surprisingly logical and clear, which sometimes happens in The Deep; however, it’s too long and personal to transcribe here. The main point was him saying that I had gained confidence in the last thirty years, which suggested that I was immortal too.
The last thing I said was that I could spend an eternity in an embrace and cultured conversation like this, to which Methos answered: “Those were supposed to be Immanuel Kant’s best years”. At this point I felt the thinnest stream of hot liquid hit my back, which was bare in a red backless dress. I had an image in my mind of a huge blue butterfly spraying me with clear blue nectar from its proboscis, but was reluctant to break Methos’ gaze to see it.
However, the scent of it was coppery not floral as I expected, and when we turned to look, we saw a masked man hanged on a thick blood-soaked rope, very close to the ceiling. The blood was spraying from his throat like a fountain. At the bottom of the rope stood another short, bloodied man in a featureless leather mask. Methos chased him to another blood-soaked rope in a stone alcove; there were no dead bodies on this one, and they both climbed up and disappeared through a trapdoor.
I knew I was supposed to stay down for my own safety and cursed to myself that they don’t know me that well. I took off an arm-ring to use as a weapon, bit it to make my hands free and started climbing. It was easier than I thought, considering that both the rope and my dress were slippery with blood. The rope was attached to the middle of an ordinary weathered wooden door that was supposed to open outwards. Getting it open was also quite easy, although it would have been impossible in the real world.
I could see the roof of the building, a pale green dome, black sculptures and a low black railing from where I was leaning halfway out through the trapdoor. However, before I could climb out, another masked man with a spear appeared and aimed it at my throat, pointing for me to climb down and be quiet. I couldn’t see Methos or the blood-soaked man from where I was, and couldn’t ask about the either as I was still holding the metal arm-ring between my teeth, which made them ache.
2. I was in Crimea near the Black Sea, watching the waves with my mother. We had just arrived and went on to settle in a tiny room, crammed full of stuff. Next day she went to party and locked me out. It was a hot dusty day and I spent it sitting on a bench at the bus station. However, the next day I demanded a walking stick, a map, the key and a weapon. She gave me all those things and a piece of broken glass for a weapon and asked what was I going to do with all that. “Use them”, I answered and tried to get out of the room, but found out that I had grown a lot suddenly and could barely squeeze through the door.
I walked along a railway which was situated on a rather high hill. I was thirsty and saw some berries that looked like wild strawberries, but realised they were poisonous just before I touched them. The two repairmen from before were fixing the railway now. I went to say hello. They seemed happy to see me and filled the pockets of my denim dungarees with blackcurrant candy.
16 hour sleep with one break. The girlfriend and purple lollipop come from the trailer for "The Handmaiden" which I watched before sleep. The conversation topics included Ancient Rome, dragons, social skills, Benedict Cumberbatch, the importance of the eye contact and Plato's allegory of the cave among others. I really hope it's not the onset of split personality to have such interesting conversations with one's own subconscious :D