Dream of:30 August 2010 "Pardon"
On the spur of the moment I had flown to Paris, France. I was looking for accommodations, not sure where I was going to stay, but remembering a small hotel where I had lodged once before; I thought I would return there. It seemed the rooms only cost about $89 a night, which I thought was reasonable. I wasn't sure how long I would stay, probably only a couple days.
I was sitting in a small compartment in either a bus or a train. I had received a call on my cell phone and I was trying to operate the phone. I thought I would call my father and tell him where I was. I was having difficulty, however, dialing the phone. I thought I could make a phone call from France, but I thought I first had to dial a code for the United States, which I thought was "01."
As I was trying to dial the number, I realized someone was trying to call me and I answered the phone. A male voice on the other line answered. The fellow immediately began asking me why I hadn't gotten back in touch with him. I quickly recognized the voice as that of a fellow whom I had only met the previous day. I recalled his name was "Lawrence Hall." I recalled I had told the fellow I would call him, but I hadn't. I hadn't been particularly impressed with the fellow when I had met him, but I realized I should have called him back if I told him I would. I couldn't remember what the fellow looked like or any details about him.
I told the fellow that I was in Paris, that I had simply flown over for a couple days for a visit. When I asked him if he had ever been to Paris, it sounded as if he said he had been there several times, but the sound quality of the phone was so poor, I couldn't be sure what he said. I cut the conversation short, telling him I couldn't hear him well. I assured him I would get back in touch with him, and I hung up.
Once I was off the phone, I became aware that an attractive young woman (probably in her late 20s) was sitting next to me on my right. I also became aware that my silver laptop computer had fallen over on her side of the floor. As I reached for the computer, I said, "Pardon," in French, with the accent on the last syllable.
I looked at her in the face and she looked at me. I definitely liked the looks of the woman, and I began thinking about what I could say to her. I thought I would talk to her in French. I would tell her that I was in Paris for a couple days and that I didn't know anybody. Then I would ask her if she would like to go out with me that evening.
As I was formulating the fantasy of asking her out, I had a vision (an image) of her in my mind. In the vision, she had been a contestant on a television game show. I could actually see her on the show. Because of her coverage on the game show, she had become famous in France. As a result, she could pick practically any fellow with whom she wanted to be. When I actually saw her on the game show, talking with a handsome fellow, I realized I probably wouldn't have a chance with her because I wasn't good-looking enough.
The scene of my fantasy vision switched. I had jumped ahead in time to a point where I had already succeeded in asking the woman out and I had already gone out with her. Our jointure had been so successful, in fact, that I had been staying as a guest at her house. I was simply a guest and no romantic liaison was taking place. A young black boy was also a guest in the house, and at times, I even felt as if I were the black boy. The boy and I wondered how long the woman would allow us to stay.
She lived in an white adobe-styled rectangular house, crowded on both sides by other similar houses, with no front yard. I watched from somewhere in the background as the boy walked outside and stood in front of the house where peculiar tall plants, twice as tall as the boy, were growing. As the boy scrutinized the plants, he realized the plant on the far right was shaggy and needed trimmed, and he immediately cut off the aberrant branch.
As he looked again at the house, he noticed a few plants actually growing out the roof of the house. Those also needed trimmed.
I continued to think about how long I might be able to stay in the house. The figure of 20 days came to mind.
Dream Epics Home Page
Copyright 2010 by email@example.com