Dream of: 27 February 1987 "The Greatness Of French"

I was sitting in one of the upper seats of a circular, sparsely filled auditorium where a round, flat area at the bottom of the seats appeared like some kind of small stage or arena. Suddenly I heard a voice speaking to the audience which said we were going to be presented with some kind of special treat, some kind of cinematography.

The whole auditorium then seemed to become the screen for a film. The voice continued to talk in the background as images flowed all around me, on the neighboring seats and everywhere. And suddenly from the images I could see that I was about to be propelled into a simulated flight, as if from a hangglider out over a very high cliff. My breath was almost taken away as I looked at a deep valley below me which seemed almost real. The sensation of flying was particularly intense although I couldn't quite forget the fact that I was actually still sitting in the auditorium. However the sight was magnificent and I just let myself go in the uplifting feeling of gliding over the wide beautiful valley.

Suddenly the film ended and it was time to go. As the few people in the auditorium began filling out, I noticed my mother almost directly across from me in one of the lower seats. She likewise saw me and seemed to want to say something to me; but I didn't want to holler back and forth across the auditorium in front of everybody and I indicated to her not to say anything. She seemed slightly dejected by that, turned and walked out an exit. I hadn't wanted to offend her and did actually want to talk to her. I hoped we could go somewhere and eat together and as I started walking out, I tried to see her. But she seemed to have disappeared.

I reached some exit doors. An attractive woman was going through one of the doors and I followed her even though another exit door was slightly closer to me. Once outside, she stopped and looked around as if she might be lost. I was behind her; she was wearing white slacks which seemed to be made out of some very peculiar, almost futuristic-looking, plastic-like material. I thought of approaching her and saying something to her. But just then a man dressed in some kind of white suit and wearing a white helmet pulled up on a motorcycle. He glanced at me; did he think I was trying to approach the woman? The woman jumped on the back of the motorcycle and pulled a white helmet over her head; they drove off. I walked on and realized I was also carrying a helmet and that I also had a motorcycle parked somewhere nearby.

A woman walked up behind me on my left and started to put her hand in my left pants pocket. I brushed her away and she walked on. She was wearing a long blue coat, had short black hair and looked as if she were about 30 years old. It occurred to me that I was actually in an airport and she was part of the security staff. I watched her talking on a walkie talkie and could hear her say something about some lines of people nearby. She walked over to some other people, stuck her hand in some man's coat pocket and started fishing around. I couldn't clearly see the man's face and thought he might even be wearing some kind of mask.

The woman retracted her hand from his pocket and in it she had a small turtle which just fit into her palm. She directed the man over to the side; I wondered whether the turtle was the man's pet or whether he was trying to smuggle it across the border.

I walked on and began wondering whether the laws now allowed security personal to simply stick their hands in people's pockets in the airports. It seemed rather drastic but seemed to be allowed. It was certainly going to make life difficult for people carrying illegal drugs. Perhaps they could put the drugs in their shoes. I was glad I wasn't carrying drugs and thought there had been times when I might have had a couple of marijuana joints in my pocket. That would certainly be dangerous now.

At first I had resented the woman's sticking her hand in my pocket. But the more I thought about it, the more I concluded I would really like to talk to the woman and get to know her. She seemed like the kind of forceful person I would like to approach. However I still felt timid about simply approaching someone like that whom I didn't know. Besides I had the feeling she spoke another language.

Suddenly I had an image of my standing on a seashore and her coming out of the water toward me. She seemed to have light brunette hair and a practically perfect body. And she only seemed to be wearing some kind of practically transparent tee shirt which was dripping water. Her breasts were particularly large and firm. I immediately began talking to her in German, since I thought that was her language. My German was quite good although not perfect. I began talking about how brave she had been to have stuck her hand in somebody's pocket like that without knowing what was in it. I told her I had been particularly impressed by the way she had pulled out the turtle without any sign of alarm. I couldn't remember the German word for turtle and had to describe it in a round-about way.

The image of the woman faded and I realized I had actually flown in to a place to visit my parents and needed to start thinking about where I was going to spend the night. I had planned to either stay with my mother or with my father. But now I was unsure I actually wanted to stay with either of them. I might call my sister and see about spending the night with her. I was beginning to think I might have made a mistake by returning to see them. I tried to remember how much the plane ticket had been and how much it would cost to go back where I had come from.

I began to imagine what it would have been like if I had gone to the Soviet Union and I imagined meeting someone who spoke French there. I was glad to find someone who spoke French because I didn't speak Russian and I didn't want to speak English. The person, an older woman, began talking about the French language. She herself was Russian and spoke French simply but plainly. It was easy to understand her. She spoke of the greatness of the French language and how good it was to have decided to have learned it.

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