Sunday, August 31, 2014

Dream: 1981 (that is to say, I had this dream in 1981)

That old vanity where she always put on her makeup and curled her hair had a mirror big enough for the two of us.
It looked like rock-n-roll and royalty. It smelled like cigarettes and seventeen.
I liked to watch her in the reflection: her perfect eyes, her luscious red lips, her confidence. She blended and highlighted and brushed like an expert.
She'd been the only girl.
After having three rowdy boys by natural means, my grandmother decided not to take any chances. She adopted a girl.
And so, my aunt garnered quite a bit of attention from the rest of the family, including me.
She was the center of the world. She listened to the loudest music, had the wildest friends, knew the sexiest dance moves. She was living the life, and I wanted to live the life, too, so it didn't phase her to have me always at her side, soaking up some of the awesome she exuded.
The vanity, that's where it happened.
That's where I became suddenly aware of the other presence in the mirror.
A small child with big, blue, adoring eyes and soft, blond curls stared back at me.
A beautiful girl with a crack running across her face--a big, black crack from ear to ear.
The Me in the chair looked at the Me in the mirror, wondering--what could it mean to have such a crack straight across like that? What damage could it cause? How should this be handled?
The Me in the mirror had no qualms. She reached up with both hands, lifted the upper half of the head and revealed the brain within.
No worries.
The crack sealed itself up once the deed was done, and the Me in the mirror placed a finger on her lips and smiled back at the Me in the chair.
The Center of the World never even noticed


  1. Ah, yes, over the years and lifetimes I've known a fair amount of girls with voodoo masks of make-up. Sometimes, I've wanted to crack the mask open like a crab from its shell and poke at the maggots underneath to see what really makes them squirm. A curiosity of mine.

    The idea of brain removal makes a queer sort of sense...

    1. I think you probably nailed it. I've wondered about that dream for a long, long time.

  2. I've read this several times, gone away, come back, read it again. I'm thinking you were the age of the center of the world when you dreamed this. Our brains have such powerful dreams then, looking for the meaning of what is happening. What confidence your little ego in the mirror possessed. No fear.

    1. My little ego is often the big problem, as far as my waking life goes.

  3. You knew then there is no real justice in the world :(

    1. maybe...or maybe I knew something my aunt didn't know...

  4. Very good.

    Life is not fair, but if you can walk through life with a smile on your face, it makes an easier walk >:)

    Cold As Heaven

  5. Wow, that's a super creepy dream. I love it.

  6. Sometimes those vivid moments of remembering old dreams are the most creepy, surreal and awesome experience...

    Sarah Allen
    (writing blog)