Oregon, Then

(It is important to understand in this dream that Oregon is not the state that we all know and love, it's some sort of demented, trippy alternate plane of existence... just fyi.)

We were standing, looking out at the snow and the mountains, hating the cold, musing over some coming when he approached us. He said that E had died, but how could he know before us? They weren't even friends. I refused to believe it, so I set out on a journey. It's important to know that one should never undertake a journey in a short green skirt and white stilettos, especially when one is hitchhiking cross-country more-or-less. Got dropped off at a dingy gas station in the middle of nowhere. Asking how far out of Oregon I was. 20 miles. Okay, well I can't walk that far in stilettos, where's the ATM machine? Then putting my card in and getting a ton of pictures of myself back before receiving $94 instead of $100. Going back in the dingy gas station.

"Can I pay anyone to give me a ride up there?"

"Why don't you just hang around and watch --- tattoo?"

"In this dingy place? I live with a tattoo artist, why would I need to watch it here?"

"Well then, we can arrange something, come over here and give me a kiss." A kiss on the cheek, a brush of the breast, a swing of the hair and I'm out the door, walking those last 20 miles on 4 inch stilettos, crumbling asphalt, and broken glass.

Arriving in Oregon, heels clicking on the boardwalks. It's really more like a giant ship. Finding the amphitheater, looking around. Seeing my father. Ah, normalcy. Sitting down with him and Grandpa, watching the clowns perform. Then looking up and seeing my grandparents walk by, younger, on a date. Turning to see Grandpa crying.

"Only a few of us can get in here.... it's a different plane, a place of the past." Dad says. I go to get a drink. Walking in stilettos will do that to you. Man with a suit and a hat sees me, chases me. Not sure what he wants, but it can't be good. Damn these shoes. Running back to the amphitheatre, can't see anyone I know, just distorted faces. Down an alley, down a stair-case into a calm white room. A man there doing branding, or is it tattooing? Who knows.

"Don't worry, we don't let scum like that in here." Finally, I get to sit for awhile.

B comes, he hugs me, he loves me.... but then.

You can't stay here, you don't belong here, you have to back home." Pointing to a dingy white motorcycle. Not sure it's going to hold together, I have no helmet... no jacket, but...well it's the only chance I've got. Riding...with skirt blowing.

Coming out of a trance. Nobody believes where I've been, they only know that I've been gone for three days... strange, but there are no alternate planes, no parallels. Going to the store with my mother, taking food to the old man in the hospital bed, the only one who believes me.

Walking into the parking lot and seeing the dingy white motorcycle parked between two hunky yellow crotch-rockets. So it was real...

(I'm gonna go ahead and leave out the last section of this dream for coign's privacy.)