Dreaming in Digital

I visited the store. Many things changed. My vegan supervisor became a police officer and she collected donations at the entrance. I apologized to her, for not saying goodbye when I had quit the store.


In my second dream, I took some friends around Toronto, spending most of my time with Shortbread and her sister. We took the PATH underground, which was, at this time of day, abandoned. It had a different appearance than usual.

We stopped at a chocolate shop. I wanted to treat my taste buds to something, but I couldn't decide. The sales lady asked what did I feel like having, and I said, "salty, but sweet." She gave me a 1" x 2" rectangle that may've been salted caramel, and after entering the cost, the chip'n'pin machine. Not entirely sure what screen I was on, I entered $100.00 when prompted for an amount. The lady replied, "no, no, no," and it ejected five $100 bills. The last bill was for 100 rupees, which I handed to her, as I didn't know what to do with it.

It was time for my friends to leave, so we surfaced the PATH at Dundas Square. Saying goodbyes, I watched my friends gather in a bus driven by an overweight woman.

There was a dream before, but I don't remember it well enough to record. My sister had signed up for a cultural event. She had also volunteered Cookie and I before we agreed to it. We were annoyed because she was bailing. This happened in my childhood apartment.

I had finished work and GrannySmith, and another girl worked with us. We closed the shop, which was a small bakery, and exited, looking for the fourth employee who worked with us. This girl was Samoan and overweight, but despite her nanny-like clothing, she was absolutely beautiful. I watched her stuff her feet into white high heels many sizes too small - her feet overflowed as if it were a cartoon.

Everything was underground; we never saw sky. We all entered the subway which had huge, metre-long, cream, laminate tiles. Everything was covered in this tile: the floor, the walls, the staircases and banisters. On the subway platform, I chatted with the other girl who had shoulder-length brown hair; GrannySmith had gone elsewhere. We hopped aboard the train that arrived. She lived on the last stop, and I had to meet Cookie who went out with the rest of Pfeffernüsse's groomsmen for some pre-wedding fun. On the second last stop, GrannySmith jumped on our train; she left earlier to do something. She talked about shoe shopping, and I thought about it too.

We made it to the end of the line. There was Cookie, waiting for me at the platform; he was waving goodbye to the group. I left the train with the girl and GrannySmith to join him. I don't remember how we were notified, but we weren't allowed to get back on the train or leave the station. Death appeared before everyone. He was seven feet tall, and his body and face were covered in a blood-coloured cloak. In one hand, he carried a shiny scythe. I watched him allow select people on the train, and the train leave back the way it came. Cookie was allowed on, and I watched him go.

The train came back the next day. There was sky above us and we weren't underground anymore. It was cream, like the subway tile, and hazy. My brunette friend said she forgot something on the train, and Death let her enter. I heard her scream, "ouch!", and a couple of minutes later, came out with an orange plastic bag in hand. Death studied her for a moment, then pointed to the train telling her, "go." She handed her bag to me and hastily obeyed. The train left for the day.

The train came back again the next day, and GrannySmith and I watched people get on, though we weren't allowed ourselves. I questioned why these people were allowed to enter the train. If Death was among us, I assumed the train led back to our everyday lives; I wanted to be on the next train. I opened the orange bag. Aside from an empty, white box, there was a pamphlet with a drawing of a woman breastfeeding. Her nipple was erect and exposed. Did my friend get hurt breastfeeding, and is that why she was allowed to leave? It didn't make sense to me.

This day, the train wasn't in the station. Death had gone for a little walk. There were pine trees surrounding us. The sky was still cream. GrannySmith was still here, and by now, the extrovert in her had died. In an instant, Death leaped over trees, bounding as quickly as he could to the few on the platform. "It's time."

He stood close to me. I bowed my head and closed my eyes as he hummed a rhyme repeatedly. Everyone seemed to know they lyrics except I. I hugged him and he hugged me. His bony hands ruffled the hair at the back of my head, then gently sliced it off with his scythe. My anxiety began to run through me. He sliced another handful of hair. I felt my heart drop, as if the beginning of a heartbreak, and my chest heaved heavy as I started to sob. His hands pulled my remaining hair into a neat bow on the top of my head.

The last line of the rhyme I heard before waking up was, "we are going to die."

There was a war between two universities, and I was on the side of the University of Toronto. We were in high school classroom for sixty students (much like my science classroom back in the day). To win this war, we had to eliminate the opposing school with candy we threw at each other; I chose hard candy as ammo, as they were hard-hitting. If you were hit, you were out.

When this battle ended, a small group if us was left. We moved to a small library with a desk and sofas. On the wall was a large television screen with floorplans to the building we were in, and a copy of it lay on a desk. Our next mission was to solve a mystery and we'd find something. My remaining team mates were two Asians (one boy and girl), two others, and our leader, who was tall, blond and male. He told us to wait and left the room.

As we waited, I studied the floorplans. Something seemed wrong about our room. I soon realized the room we were in was the wrong room, and we had to escape from it before... Before something bad happened to us. Our room was a trap. The door handle was locked, so I balled my fist and punched the mirrored glass, decorating its panels, until it shattered.

We ran outside, towards a parking lot just as our leader was unlocking his getaway car. Under the star-studded sky, our leader turned around, a sly smile on his face. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder. Congratulating us, he revealed his plan, step-by-step. He told us that sometime earlier, we'd eaten a tracking chip. I don't remember how we were distracted enough that we let him get away. The Asian boy pulled a baking tray out of his backpack. He peeled back the foil wrapping to reveal tomatoes of different sizes he'd baked earlier. By handfuls, we shoved them into his mouth, encouraging us to eat them. Tomatoes blocked the tracking signal.

I don't remember how this dream starts. I was in a dim hallway, in a high school, and classes have ended with the hallways almost clear of students. On my cell phone, Pokemon GO was open in my right hand. I ran into RedPrince, who, in this dream, played the game. He was happy to see me, and I did not feel any of the fear or anger I have that I do in person at this point in time. We ran into a little group in the middle of the hall; I don't remember who the other two were, but Honeycrisp was the third person. I waved in passing, more focused on trying to advance the character on my screen.

The only thing that happened, that I remember, was Honeycrisp walking through a doorway in his navy, puffy coat. Happy, I ran into him, giving him a bear hug. He hugged me back. He had a huge smile on his face, happy to see me. 

It was the day before Wafer's wedding and everyone was getting ready at my parent's old house, back on Avocado. I remember getting my dress from the master bedroom's walk-in closet, and grabbing my dress. One of the bridesmaids walked by, her dress tailored and ready, and I realized I haven't done that yet. With hours before the next day (and the wedding, which started at midnight), with my sewing kit, I moved to the living room and sat behind the dining table to work. My partnered groomsman sat beside me, as he had repairs to do on his suit. I worked in a frenzied state trying to shorten the hem of my dress without a plan or knowledge of how.

A group from my work and I were given a team building holiday: we had to live under the same roof of a cabin, which was beside a private community centre. We all had chores and presentations to do, and we had to bring food and snacks to make and share.

Honeycrisp finished his tasks early; he waited until I was done. We went for a walk outside through a field and a small woodland area. It was autumn and the trees were orange and yellow. The grass was straw-like and yellow. The sun was setting, so the sky was richly golden, followed by orange and red. I can't recall our conversations, but I was able to make him laugh.

We came back when it was dark. We sat on the brown carpet of the family room, listening to someone give their presentation. I sat close to him.

Before bed, I opened the refrigerator with GrannySmith, to see what we had for breakfast tomorrow. The fridge was mostly empty except for two packages of frozen appetizers Honeycrisp brought, and a bag of apples.

The next morning, we sat on white, plastic chairs, in rows, in a solarium. Glass enclosed us, and a wooden trellis above grew vines of something young and green. The sun warmed the concrete beneath our feet. GoldenDel stood before us, scissors in hand, giving a presentation, which I think has something to do with cutting hair. While she spoke, Honeycrisp stood beside her, and two chairs were in front of them.

I sat in the front row when GoldenDel called me and someone else as volunteers. We sat on the chairs before them. GoldenDel began snipping away on the person's hair in front of her. I heard two snips behind me before I heard, "I can't do this," in a soft, defeated voice.

I turned to Honeycrisp, who was flushed. He looked extremely sad. "May we be excused?" I asked GoldenDel. She looked at both of us and nodded.

I took his hand and we walked into the next room -- the main hallway -- and sat on a bench in a corner beside a potted majesty palm. I hugged him as he told me he couldn't do this -- our friendship -- anymore. I didn't understand. I hugged tighter, but he wouldn't hug me back.

It was Honeycrisp's birthday and the part I remember was we met our work friends somewhere, then continued walking. We walked until we came across my apartment. The lobby was massive -- it looked like a fancy hotel, with a casino and stage. It's what I imagine Las Vegas looks like.

I was with PinkLady, Ambrosia, another cashier, and Honeycrisp. On this grey, winter day, I wore a black dress with jeans beneath, and I dearly, dearly wanted to shave my legs. There as a show on stage, and the girls stopped to watch.

As I explained what I knew about the show, I noticed Honeycrisp was a little bored. He wandered away from the enthralled group, then came back to find they haven't moved. I gave him my house keys and building fob, telling him, "I'll be right back." I told him they should explore. I left for home to shave my legs.

All I remember of this dream was I was at work, and that Honeycrisp was pissed at me.

Three dreams:

1. Shortbread came with me to meet my mother. My mother threw a fit about something, but I can't remember what or why.

2. I worked for Canadian Tire, but the interior of the building looked dated and wooden. Each room was tiny, and decorated with odd objects and machinery. There weren't any windows. There was someone I was running and hiding from; they were authority.

3. I was in the locker room at work. I took a seat between RedPrince and a girl who worked in the produce preparation area. Seated beside the girl was Honeycrisp, and a boy who also worked in the produce preparation room. I placed my bowl of pre-cut melons (cantaloupe, watermelon and honeydew) on the table, and I heard the girl ask, "you're having fruit?"

"Yeah, that's my fruit," Honeycrisp playfully commented (he works in their department).

I hear the girl reply, "eww," in response, and turned to see the grimace on her face.

It was a sunny summer day, and my mother, sister and I went to a house that was private, but used publicly as a spiritual place. Formerly, it belonged to my cousin before she moved away.

I wore a lavender dress, with a short, white cardigan over my sleeveless arms.

The stairs leading to this basement home were floating steps, covered by a plum, velvet fabric. It was terrifying to take these steps down, as they were quite spaced part. I tried one step, which was broken and spun around on its axis, and I warned the family behind me to watch their step on it. They had a little girl about eight with them.

That day, there was a congregation to see a spiritual leader (whose name I can't remember), who lived there and hosted spiritual sessions. I walked in behind my mother and sister, following them into the living room. As mass was gathered at her feet - a woman, whose bare legs were showing to reveal an intricate, coloured tattoo of an orange snake's bottom half, giving her the illusion she was a snake. We went deeper into the home, and there was a room where the couches were covered in white sheets.

Sitting on the sofa closest to me, with their backs turned, was a girl and a boy, past their teenage years. Seated on a single seater, also draped in white,across from them was an older lady in her forties. Separating them was a glass coffee table, trimmed with gold, and on top of it was a golden pothos potted in a golden pot. The walls were white with a tint of blue, so that when it was dark, the walls were white with a hint of baby blue.

Upon hearing steps, the siblings turned to see who approached and the boy's face lit up upon seeing me.

He took my hands in his, and held them close to our hearts, introducing himself. (I can't remember his name). He was handsome, tanned by the sun, with black hair and eyes. Excited, he asked with a Spanish accent, "did you like my book?"

I studied his face, trying to recognized who he was. Some time earlier, I was on my Instagram account, and I'd found a book with a fictional story I was interested in. I had followed his account, so I would't forget about it, but it was definitely near the top of my reading list. "I'm sorry," I said. "I haven't started yet, but I plan to read it soon."

He gave me a hug, as if we were old friends, and in his embrace, I noted his mother was watching intently, suspicious of me. Once we broke, I excused myself to the bathroom.

I knew where it was. I made my way into an empty dining room with a glass table top, and golden chairs. In the corner of the room, there was a little powder room that I've used many times as a child. I just made it through the door frame when the young author hurried in, asking if I needed help in finding it. Before I could answer, he pulled me aside, away from the view of others, and kissed me passionately, for what felt like a minute, only tearing away when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

"This is the door," he said, breathlessly, his face turned away from his mother who had just walked in. He pulled open the door, and seated on the toilet, was a horrified old man.

All I remember of the dream was that I was with Honeycrisp. He put an arm around me and cuddled me as I hugged him.