Dream of: 29 April 2002 "Seven Sisters"

Walking around the tree-lined streets of Portsmouth, I ended up in a park-like area directly behind – and to the side of – the gray-stoned Portsmouth Public Library. Amidst the trees a stage had been constructed – nothing more than a round platform – of white marble. Six or seven steps rose to the stage. A group of people stood gathered around the stage, apparently in the process of solemnizing either the platform itself, or something on the platform. Particularly impressive were seven huge ancient trees which were growing around the platform. These trees were famous in the area, and I had heard mention of them before. I meandered over to the people and commented, "So these are the seven sisters."

Someone acknowledged that I was correct. I mingled with the people a few minutes, them moved on, again taking up my walk through the streets of Portsmouth. It seemed to be Sunday. I continued walking until I reached an unfamiliar area of town. Something seemed to be going on in a building I passed, so I walked in. Tables sporting all sorts of paraphernalia were set up in the room; people were strolling through the tables, perusing the goods – an auction was about to start!

I began looking more closely. On one table lay several extremely artistic paintings; they looked like works by Picasso, but of course they weren't. On another table stood several exquisitely sculpted silver statues, including a particularly fine silver sculpture of an American Indian. Were these people sophisticated enough to appreciate the value of these sculptures? Apparently so, if the sculptures were going to be auctioned off here.

I walked into a side room where some people were gathered who seemed to need some help with something. Also in the room was a second group of people lining up for something. When a person reached the end of the line, he or she was given one drop in a shot-glass from a bottle of whiskey. I stepped into the line. When my turn finally came, instead of using a shot glass, I used a much larger glass; and instead of taking a drop, I took approximately two full shot-glass's worth. I gulped down the whiskey like an expert. Then I walked over to the people who seemed in need of help.

A pretty brown-haired woman in the group began talking with me. Petite (about 20 years old), she said I looked intoxicated; she wasn't speaking maliciously, just matter-of-factly, as if it were natural for me to look intoxicated. I didn't feel intoxicated, but the whiskey had definitely put me in a lighter spirit. The woman said she had seen me earlier, and I assumed she meant she had seen me in the park. She said another woman had also seen me in the park. Apparently the other woman had been rather fond of me. I hadn't seen the other woman in the park, but now I wished I had seen her. I still didn't recognize the woman with whom I was speaking, but I told her that she must know me if she had recognized me in the park. She indicated that she did know me. I asked her what her name was and she said, "Michelle."

Since the name sound French, I quipped, "So you're French."

She beamed. Of course she wasn't French, but she was flattered by my remark. She put her arms around me and held me tight. She seemed to like me. I put my right arm around her waist and held her. She didn't seem to mind. I was quickly growing quite fond of her.

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Copyright 2002 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com