Innundation dream

This is a dream. I’m writting it down while it is still vivid and fresh in my mind. Much of the details are impossible to note down. Sights, smell, colour, the beautiful costumes, elaborate jewellery and golden facepaints.

It started innocuously enough.

I was a student, late for class and trying to buy some food and drink. It was bazaar day. I stood in the middle of tented area, surrounded by women preparing food. One spoke to me in a language I do not understand. With many hand gestures and head noddings, I guessed I was being told to spread a cloth on the ground and the women would serve the food. Feeling rather out of place, I clumsily lay it out.

Before I was done, I found myself called for an interview with the head of institution. There were a row of men and women ahead of me, all dressed strangely. Most out of place are a group of women, spread evenly among the line, all dressed in lilac frilly gown. Some have flowers braided into their hair. All ignored me. They seem busy, intent on some kind of communal meeting that formed small groups, whispered urgently and broke up again.

I went into a side room. A woman in business suit seems to be in charge there. I spoke briefly with her and left with a feeling of urgency and anxiety about the whole place. But I knew they were ineffectual and helpless.

I walked out and into a large furniture showroom. There were large screen TVs everywhere with rows seats. I searched for a nice quiet place and came to an open area. It looked ancient. There were wide staircases going down to a large underground cavern. There were more marble and concrete staircases going to higher level, some to hillside gardens, some to overhead walkways.

I was at the bottom of a dead-end staircase, running parallel to a wide road one level above. A motorcycle with two black clad riders streaked along the road, long red hair streaming in the wind. I ran to the underside, not waiting to be seen. They knew I was there anyway and turned around. As they rode down the staircase, I left my hiding and ran up. I did not want to be trapped down there. Once started on the bone jarring downward slide, the bike would not be able to turn to follow me up the stairs. As we approach each other, the bike swerved to run me down. I grabbed the handle and turned it to the side. It overbalanced and went crashing down. I ran the rest of the way up, heart pounding. Relieved I escaped with minor scrape along my arm. Afraid I might have killed the rider. I looked down and heard him groaning. I called 999 and left him there.

I found myself in a group of women, dressed like egyptian queens. One of them seems to know me and said vehemently, "I will not accept this! I will not accept this! I’ve sent emissaries to the six wives of the Pharoah." I knew something bad was about to happen. I didn’t know what it was or how to stop it. I had to find out. How do I get to the Otherworld?

I came upon ancient staircase. It looked like a temple, with wide staircase going to a huge underground chamber. A procession was going downwards, sweeping me along. At there centre were nine priestesses. The head priestess turned to me and said, "It is coming. It is here!"

"No," I yelled at her. "This is a mistake. You can’t hide down there." I ran against the crowd, up the stairs again. As I reached the top, I felt the gentle cold wind and smelled the ocean. People were screaming and running down past me. I took a step forward and stepped knee-deep in warm water. The water rose higher and spilled over the top step.

I reached out to a girl in pink dress. Together, we climbed on to the parapet. "Don’t go down!"

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