I was on 6 deck alone. I got on the train that runs along the deck and then went straight up to the next deck and then went back horizontally again. I got off the train and then realized I was chatting with Albert Garcia. “You can’t be here,” I said. “He died in prison.” “No,” Al said, “Jackie got me out of there and helped me get on the ship, although his secretary is still in prison.”
I turned over and felt like I might be awake. “Ron?” I asked. He didn’t answer. He’s not there. He had left a note on the little table “6th deck, coffee area.” I looked for the Vienna bag to see whether it has my sunglasses and a pen if I need to write.
Ron came to the cabin. “Let’s go,” Ron said. “Let’s go swimming” and then he did.
I hope now I can go to the Medical Office so I can found an antihistamine so I can start breathing better.
Later, the doctor at the Medical Office didn’t want an antihistamine but gave me cough syrup for every six hours and Cetirizine once a day for four days. Will that clear my red eyes? Will I stop hissing in my chest? Having the syrup, now I’m not allowed to drink any water for two hours. Aargh! I’m not getting much water. Rats.
Your dream of the train’s path on the ship seems like an M.C. Escher drawing.
I like the part about Ron saying “Let’s go swimming” “and so he went”. Was that real or still the dream?
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Such vivid dreams – what are you eating or drinking before you go to bed?! I hope you are enjoying reality that’s a bit less challenging.
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