The Dream About Who

Well I can only remember bits and pieces here and there. It was one of those dreams where you wake up in the morning and its so fresh in your mind that you swear you will never loose grasp of it, then by the time you are in the shower you’ve managed to only scrape what little remains in your mind; you’ve lost most of it, and nothing makes sense anymore… yes, one of those dreams.

I don’t really remember how it all started, I assume it had an explanation as to why we were where we were, but I’m not sure what it was, so just go with it. I’ll jump right to the cake.

So we are on a submarine. It’s a passenger sub, and for whatever reason it’s become an efficient and fun way to travel. Essentially it has replaced conventional cruise ships as it has become safer to travel underwater than on top and, not to mention it has become a rather prompt form of travel. (It takes only a few days to get from North America to Europe.)

So we are both on the ship for business purposes, but we didn’t come together. I didn’t know you were on the ship up until to point where I can begin to remember the dream:

So I’m going to the dinning hall to partake in the “Captain’s Dinner” so naturally, everyone is dressed up rather nicely for the occasion. I go to my table assigned to me based on my cabin number and socialize with those already present, explaining my business purposes and other general conversation. After dinner there is of course dancing, but for the most part I choose to simply relax at the table talking to those who seem to share an interest in what I have to say. As I lower my rye and ginger I see a woman between the many people on the dance floor, but only for a second, but enough to catch my attention. Red dress, longer on the right side tapering up on the left, matching lacy red heels, long wavy brown hair that bounced ever so gently as she spun gracefully on the dance floor.

Distracted from conversation, my eyes fought to find her again in the crowd, but was lost trying to search in the sea of people from my table. I continued talking and finished up at a natural pace thinking nothing more of the woman in red.

On my way back to my room I took a detour down a hallway of glass, open to the sea outside. There wasn't much of interest outside, hardly the display they have at sea world, but there was still something so peaceful about looking out directly into the blue. Having only a plate of glass between myself and ocean.

A voice.

"Calming isn't it?" It asked.

I turned and sure enough it was the woman in red. It was you. Older; not to much older, I would say 26 maybe. You've matured quite nicely if you don’t mind me saying. You seem taller, not allot talker, but it could just be the heals, I can't tell at this point. We walk and talk, about what I’m not sure, I assume we are catching up on things. A blur, and somehow we are now at a lounge bar, laughing it up, talking about whatever it is we manage to talk about.

Then by some fate (or by decision) we end up back at my room (and I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not what you're thinking, despite myself wishing otherwise). The room is odd, though every room is similar; almost natural it would seem, as it this design is the norm for every vessel of this kind. The room entrance opens into a regular height room, but is still rather small. It contains a washroom on the right with a toilet, standing shower and sink. Nothing more. To the left is a small table with a coffee maker, a drawer with a bible and storage area for small carry on cases. To the left of it, is an outlet with four plugs instead of two. A closet makes up the rest of the left wall. Directly in field of vision, the room suddenly shrinks to half the height, were in which lays a double bed with no box spring. Despite the lack of box spring the bed is extremely comfortable. Once on the bed, there is only enough room to sit up with perhaps 4 inches to spare, most certainly not a large space, but yet it seems to suit the purpose of sleeping.

We lay in bed together face to face simply talking once more. I remember a conversation about rainbows and how you are only fond of the top of the rainbow because the colours at the top make you happy. You speak negatively of those you call “the dark colours”. You dislike them because they are both dark and at the bottom of the rainbow; the tighter arc causes you to find them rather depressing. I find this odd, but yet still find logic in your reasoning. Needless to say, you still enjoy a good rainbow.

That's all I remember