Member-only story
Twilight Time
The Pleasure Of Illusions
We’re just in time.
• By all appearances.
Feels dreamlike up here—like resting on a couch when Autumn sneaks in with a chill, and someone is there to throw a blanket over my shoulders.
• So you don’t have to surface, so you can hold onto and return to your dream.
And I can see, right through my closed eyelids that they’re also lowering the light in the room.
• But gradually, using the dimmer switch. And they don’t turn it off completely.
They know I want just a bit of that light left, to hit the edges of the buildings in my dream.
• Or else the shadows would disappear.
And those are very important characters, keepers of secrets, shades.
• All hail amber Luna—she begins to rise.
I was a detective, on the trail of something—a film noir type thing. As usual none of the telephones worked. They never do. Or else there would be ways out of the situations and I’d probably wake up.
There was much pursuit. From and toward, but not sure what. I kept doing stupid things that set me back. Dreams are like movies and yelling at the characters to point out the obvious which they’re missing doesn’t work.
Movies and dreams need those…
