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Amber and Nightshade

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Cohesion
Sunday, July 30 2017 Views: 83

I lied to my family and told them I’m going on a date with my boyfriend, but instead I went to the cemetery to work on a scientific paper in mineralogy on the properties of Baltic amber. The cemetery was stunning in the silence of the clear autumn afternoon and the variety of colours of the autumn leaves. I sat on a bench reading a book that mostly had charts and diagrams, waiting for my scientific advisor. He soon arrived and when I told him about my lie, he flirtatiously said it doesn’t have to be a lie.

For some reason I went to the morgue that stood in the middle of the cemetery – it was tiled in white and black inside and had a huge mirror on one wall. I stood in front of it for a long while preening and admiring my reflection. I wore three long strands of amber beads, a yellow Pavloposadsky shawl around my shoulders and a purple one tied around my head. Thinking it strange that I’d wear anything on my head, I took the purple shawl off and tied it around my hips. The rest of my clothes were white. I looked very unusual, but liked what I saw.

  

I wrote my thesis in one day and my advisor gave me a new task – to kill twelve dragons. He introduced me to twelve soldiers that were supposed to help me. I didn’t see the dragon killing, but knew I had succeeded when I was walking back to the headquarters along the Dam street, smoking a cigarette in an opaque amber holder, muttering quiet curses at the bloodstains on my long white skirt, thinking it will be impossible to wash these off.

Instead of the café opposite the Central Hospital there was a royal palace that looked like a glass cube. I could clearly see about a dozen people inside. One of those was a middle-aged naked woman who I knew was the queen. She seemed uncomfortable, but didn’t hide or try to cover herself.

Back at the headquarters I discovered all twelve soldiers nailed to the wall with their throats slit, it looked like a tapestry of gore dripping in blood. It turned out that my scientific advisor was the 13th dragon named Nightshade and that he had killed the soldiers.

I searched for help, but the only people left alive were the cook and the cleaner – two short men who were bickering all the time. I also saw Ethan Chandler playing with his kids on the floor of a vast hall, but he paid me no attention and I didn’t want to disrupt their game anyway.

The cook, the cleaner and I travelled over grass covered rolling hills, those two arguing all the time about who has a heavier load to carry, although they only had their swords and an empty bucket to carry. Inept as they would seem, they actually helped me in killing the huge black dragon. I had slit Nightshade's throat and held on to its neck holding the wound open while it was thrashing wildly, spilling black blood everywhere, and counted a countdown of two minutes. Within this time my two helpers had to stab Nightshade through its secondary brain at the base of its tail, which they did.

Additional Comments:

Epic as it may seem, this dream is a collection of reflections of minor fleeting thoughts I had yesterday – BL presenting his new wife with an amber necklace, discussing The Hobbit with Roo, Anne Rice watching Penny Dreadful, and talking to Kiddo how nightshade flowers look a lot like potato flowers. I don't smoke in waking life, don't wear yellow or white, and am not overly interested in mineralogy.




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