Preface to a dream: this language is off the cuff, odd grammar, just as it pops into my mind. Like if I was dreaming my writing. That’s how it feels to dream like I dream. Now, if I can only write like a Cadillac. which drives like a dream…The Cadillac of Dreams. I’d name a flavor of ice cream that.
I dreamt last night that I was an astronaut, orbiting the Earth in something like one of the Mercury capsules. I did a spacewalk and there was a video camera pointing out of a small hatch and it had a special filter over the lens with gold on it, like on space suit helmets.
The announcer (there is often an announcer or narrator in and of my dreams) explained that our species, unlike humans, sent a person with a video camera into space as our first launch of anything into orbit. Because we never bothered with film on my planet- “everything on our planet goes straight to video.” It would have been easy to just hit record and launch it but we, as a people, wanted a person to be part of the first launch into space, into orbit. I was that person. Despite what the announcer said, what I orbited looked like planet Earth below me and I felt like a human and looked like myself in the reflection on the camera filter. The spacesuit was not very bulky. More like a cool scifi spacesuit.
While I made faces in the camera I knocked the capsule out of balance and it and I tumbled violently. I enjoyed swinging around on it but soon steadied myself. It was fun, like being a kid on a swing and swinging way way way too high and jumping off. I climbed back in and fired the retrorockets and fell to Earth.
“Mission control, which ocean?”
“Oh, any ocean. We have destroyers in them all, ready to dash over and get you before you sink.”
“OK, the Atlantic, near the Canary Islands then.” I thought I could maybe take a vacation there.
“OH! Not the Atlantic. Any ocean but the Atlantic.”
“Alright. But don’t miss!”
And I guided the capsule with my brain or something, by concentrating on where I was aiming my gaze. But I remembered this science fiction book, Dervish House, by Ian MacDonald, and looked around for Istanbul. Oops! The strait of Bosporus was way too small to target. I looked back to the Mediterranean, for the French Riviera but had gone too far. I’d have to splash down in the Adriatic or Agean, and quick!
And so I did. But I wound up off the coast of Lebanon. Or maybe where Cyprus would have been if my dream cartography had been more accurate. No Cyprus anywhere in that sea of dreams. But the destroyer found the capsule. And I was some kind of hero. It was fun! Best dream in a long time and the narrative didn’t break down, which is a really amazing thing to happen in one of my longer dreams. Good stuff.