Dream of: 16 February 1998 (2) "Baudelaire"

Carolina and I had broken into a high school. We were desperate to do some studying, and since we had nowhere else to go, we had decided to break into the school. Once we were inside, we slipped quietly through the halls. Although the school was closed and no students were inside, a few other people, probably teachers, were still in the school; we had to be careful to avoid them.

We just barely missed being seen by a man walking through the hall. We slipped into a classroom just in the nick of time. However I was unable to shut the door to the room, and as the man passed by in the hall, I was afraid he would see my foot, which was still in the light of the doorway. I stood perfectly still as the man passed, not daring to move my foot. Fortunately he passed by without noticing me.

But when we turned around and took a closer look at the room, Carolina and I were startled to find that we weren't alone. Some other people had also been hiding in the room, just like Carolina and I. The others had also been standing perfectly still so they wouldn't be noticed. But now that the danger was past, the others began moving out of the shadows so I could see them. There appeared to be six of them, all young, high school age, both boys and girls. They all had black hair and appeared to be Hispanic. They didn't say a word. Instead, they began walking and filed silently out a door at the rear of the room. As they marched out of the room, Carolina and I followed them, concluding that they probably knew their way around the school better than we.

We soon reached a room full of just what I wanted – books. Everybody went straight to work, sedulously picking out books and working on their own projects. I felt certain the others were students in the school, and that they were intent on completing assignments. I was also intent, but not on any assignments. I simply had a thirst for learning which was driving me. I particular wanted to read books in other languages and quickly assembled books in German, French and Spanish, which I spread open around me. I was particularly interested in a book of poetry by the French poet Baudelaire.

At one point in our studies, we were all interrupted by a woman who walked into the room. She was probably in her mid 30s, and appeared to be a teacher at the school. I thought she was going to cause us problems, but after looking us over, she concluded that we were all students at the school, and decided to allow us to stay and study. Relieved, I concentrated fully on my books.

My pleasure was short-lived. The woman soon returned, and this time she confronted Carolina and me. She now realized Carolina and I weren't students and she accused us of deceiving her. I told her I hadn't actually said I was a student; she had simply concluded as much on her own. But it didn't make any difference what I said — the woman was clearly going to force us to leave. She was already holding open a door at the rear of the room, a door which seemed to lead down a circuitous network of passageways to the outside. Carolina and I stood up and walked toward the door. But I still didn't intend to give up. I thought once I was in the passageway, I might slip away from the woman, and be able to remain in the school.

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