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[personal profile] kuangning
There are patches of snow left in shadowed corners... odd places like the creases of curbs and the sheltered side of walls. Today it took real willpower not to kneel beside one of those patches and put my hot hands on it and watch it melt away.

Oh, yes... have I mentioned that I've been sick? It's one of my idiosyncrasies; every time I run a fever, no matter how briefly, it settles in my hands somehow. I may be shivering, in fact I usually am, and my skin may be cold and clammy everywhere else... but my hands are burning hot. No matter the weather, then, I can't bear to wear gloves or even put my hands in my pockets; I want nothing more than to find an icepack and encase my hands to the wrists in coolness.

The other inevitable symptom is dreams. Vivid ones. Ones I can't escape from because waking doesn't break the sequence; I fall back into the same dream I awoke from, though I never have continuous dreams any other time.


I was watching the television with disgust. Lani was on, explaining some belief of hers, and it was plain the interviewer thought she was crazy. By the time she was done, so did I. More, I didn't like or respect her anymore. I turned off the television as my S/O came in, and we went for a drive that wound up with us at Lani's house. I listened politely while she explained the same thing to me that she'd tried to explain on television, and made jelly sandwiches for us (I seemed to know where everything was in her house) while half-considering what new poll I should do for my LJ. (tea or coffee, both, or neither? milk, sugar, both, or neither?) The visit came to a conclusion with my S/O coming back in and saying we needed to be going, and asking what type of tree was growing outside her house. They discussed the shape of the fruit for a minute, she making gestures with her hands to show him, and saying it was a type of pear, she thought. I thought it was more likely a peach. Then we mentioned how long a drive it would be back home, went downstairs, and I woke up briefly.

I fell asleep and fell into the dream during the drive home. We drove for a long time, dark trees and stars and the road under the tyres, though it hadn't seemed like such a long drive on the way there, and got home to find my sibs there, discussing some criminals and a scheme that somehow involved capturing the criminals by my brother setting off an alarm without them knowing. It seemed sensible enough, except that the criminals came in and caught us all. They took us to a two-story building with stairs both on the side and on the back, and sat us, our legs tied, in a covered rec area with a pool and a field. Most of them, I think there were four, then went up the back stairs while the worst of the lot, the only one I was afraid of, proceeded to bring in a variety of animals. He said we could play with them, and so we did... and then he took them one by one and slaughtered them in front of us. The pool was red with blood, bits of fur and hide floating in it like some sort of horrid soup. Then he brought in a prisoner, a man I didn't recognise, and told us the man was a snitch. He then decapitated the man; his head rolled to lie beside a corner of the bench we were sitting on, and there it stayed. The criminal then asked us if we were going to be cooperative. We said we would, and he thought we were obviously terrified and would behave, so he untied us. Then he went upstairs too. I crept across to a payphone out of sight, even though there was one nearer to us, and dialled 911, and begged the operator to send police immediately. They sent a police van with two men, and after a brief look around, one of the officers questioned my sibs and me. The criminal was coming down the stairs, though, and he was angry and suspicious, so the officer went to the nearer payphone and pretended he only needed to make a call. This worked, although the criminal told the cops to leave the property and yelled at us for letting them come, he went back upstairs. I woke up again at this point.

When I fell asleep again, the officer had a plan. (there was also an interlude where he showed off a hole in his stomach where, he said, he could draw in extra oxygen, but that's just silly.) He wired my brother, and motioned my sisters and I to the side stairs, and then proceeded to bring in a party. (No, I mean a real party, with dancers and performers, don't ask me how he did it on a moment's notice or why they didn't mind the corpses everywhere.) Anyway, that ruse worked... all the men came rushing out, didn't notice the cops amid all the confusion until they were captured one by one. At that point, I wound up weeping all over the officer, who very kindly sat with me till I was done, and there the dream ended, because I woke up again.

Date: 2002-01-05 12:19 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dormouse-in-tea.livejournal.com
*blinks at you* Oh my.

re:

Date: 2002-01-05 01:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tequilasunset.livejournal.com
Take care... hope you feel better.

(((*)))

Date: 2002-01-05 01:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tibicina.livejournal.com
I hate it when bad dreams come back after you've woken up. It's not so bad when it's a relatively neutral or even good dream that comes back, but the bad dreams that won't go away tend to leave me grumpy all the next day.

I'm sorry you're sick, hope you feel better soon. Maybe you could find a cooling pack of some kind for your hands while you keep the rest of you warm.

Date: 2002-01-05 02:36 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dormouse-in-tea.livejournal.com
*points at her LJ* I wasn't oh mying over that.

We are both sick at the same time, and we both have weird dreams while sick.

Okay, now, one of us needs to win the lottery, and then the other can. *laughs*

fever dreams

Date: 2002-01-05 08:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ryocoon.livejournal.com
meh.... Being sick is no fun. My sympathies.

While being sick is something I rarely am (other than a sniffle or two) When I get sick enough to run a fever, it gets really interesting. I too will end up having dreams, and very vivid ones at that, but a lot of times they will continue in my mind as I float in and out of conciousness due to the fever. Oddly enough this is the only time, so I have been told, that I will talk in my sleep. They often say it sounds like I'm speaking another language.
*shrug*

Fever dreams have been some of the more interesting sets of dreams I have ever had, and are always a good point to being that sick.
*grin* not everything about being sick is bad, see? ^_^

The idea of the slaughtered animals was odd. Letting you play with them, to only take them and slaughter them... Developing an attatchment to an individual or an item only to have it destroyed or otherwise taken. Odd metaphor in that it was lots of animals. The fruit tree discussion I probably would have gotten more into... but that is just the way my twisted mind works.

Well take care of yourself and hope you get better soon...

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