Dreaming in Digital

20230820 i barely remember these dreams. With Shortbread, I climbed creaking old wooden stairs of a small house. On the floor we reached were filled bookshelves of fragrant old books. The walls were peeling painted white horizontal wood planks and the floors were creaking wood covered in expensive antique rugs. I can't remember what we were talking about.

 20230528 Rummaging through a filled garage, stacked with rows upon rows of metal shelves, I came across a partially opened cardboard box. I pulled out a picture book with a familiar-looking girl on the cover. It was a book about Jyn Erso's adventures before the events of Star Wars: Rogue One.

-------

Cookie's four-year-old nephew was having another birthday party for his friends only. Despite not having children, cookie and I were invited, so we awkwardly watched children run around the party hall.

Stacks of colouring sheet packages and a cup of crayons sat on a foldable table. I took one stack and began colouring the dinosaur-themed package. Not soon after, the nephew's mother's friend, and her two sons, were leaving. She searched the colouring packages for her sons' names but only found one. Dread set into my system as I flipped through the sheets I found a name written on the top right of the package.

I rushed to Cookie's nephew's mother telling her what I'd accidentally done - I didn't know they were only for the children. Overhearing my panic, my mother-in-law handed me a black USB stick and pointed me to a door.

"You can print out more colouring pages in there," she said, patting my shoulder.

Cookie and I entered the room. Everything was white. The only things in the room were a single computer and a black printer in the centre of the room. I booted up the stick in Windows Explorer to see thousands of files, and to my horror, none of them were in folders. I used the search function without luck, and after a few minutes, I decided to try searching on the internet for the exact same colouring book pages to print.

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.

Shortbread and I went to a new high school. We had different classes and lunch periods, and the people we got along with were different too. My first class was an art class, where I've met a girl and she invited me to eat lunch with her friends. I refused because I promised I'd eat with Shortbread. In art, my teacher was kind, and tried to inspire me. We sat in a stairwell even though she had a classroom and asked if I wanted to borrow a book from her. I declined since it was during lunch. When lunch came, I went looking for Shortbread and found her in an English class, writing an essay in the hallway. I talked to her a little before a boy came to me, asking for help. He has porcelain skin and auburn hair, and he led me to the english teacher's classroom during an ongoing class. Something told me he was strange, but I followed him. He led me through a door in the back of class which led to an empty classroom. With the teacher following behind, the boy closed the door behind us. I can't remember what he did, but I felt threatened and insulted. The teacher handed him a piece of cardstock, and told him to go to the office. The teacher told me he did this often, maybe unaware of his actions. Then I wentto find Shortbread. I met Shortbread at the end of the hallway, and we went for lunch in the park, where there was a picnic table. Later on at night, we were invited to a girl's house for dinner. We sat in their parking lot, double checking the address when a car pulled up in front of the house, blaring music and laughter. Out came a noisy group of her friends. We weren't the only ones she invited.

I had borrowed a massive amount of books and media from the library at university for a class project. When class finished, I checked my belongings for two white clipboards that I brought, finding one mixed into someone's pile of stuff. I wanted it back, so I played dumb and asked around class. Not receiving the results i wanted, I just took my clipboard froom the pile, gathered my things and left the classroom. It was grey outside, like night would soon envelope the city. I tried to rush to the bus terminal, but the two bags in my hands and the backpack of books encumbered me. I desperately threw the two bags in my hand across the street and hurried across. A group of kids gathered the books and were about to leave but I caught them and told them they were mine from the library. They gladly handed them back and I left them in a hurry to the terminal building, claiming my bus was here. They followed me inside and I pretended I needed a locker but I didn't have a lock with me.

I remember something about being in the world of Harry Potter. I was a student at Hogwarts. There was the old dude, and someone else, but I don't remember who. You can tell I'm not a regular fan of the books.

I went to meet my Uncle Joven and Aunty Boots at an aquarium show with my mom, dad and sister. We sat down and the show ended. The stage in the centre had a podium with five bells. While my uncle nad dad messed with something on stage, I played with the bells, specifically three of them, playing a tune. My aunty was impressed and asked which how did I play it and I showed her with my mom watching.