Thursday, 26 January 2012

The gun

I wouldn't mention this dream if I hadn't seen a gun. Not only I saw it but I caught it, I lifted it from the floor and felt its weight in my hand. I don't know what real guns feel like but it was fascinating, better than driving.

When I woke up I didn't know I had been dreaming the previous night. All right, we dream every night, still when I opened up my eyes I had no idea of what had happened in my sleep. But then, while I was preparing my coffee I remembered. A few boring things at first and then the gun.

I was with my partner at a summer resort. We weren't together but I really fancied him. For some reason us being together was prevented but I crawled next to him in a bed he was sharing with a couple more people and I whispered in his ear that we should meet in private. I can't remember very well the course of events but then we were at a factory that crushed garbage. It was very clean, almost pristine. Big machines would lift big bundles of staff, throw them in other big machines that would crush them and form them in a descent, nice square. I was searching for P.probably although I am not exactly sure it was him at that point. I found him under a red velvet drape that was randomly thrown over some tables and other piles of clean garbage. I found him and pulled him up. I also found his gun, which I was very reluctant to touch. I picked it up non-the-less. It was heavy but well balanced and cold. It was not a big gun. I would say that it was approximately 17 cm long, in the silvery colour of polished iron with a simple wooden handle. My fingers found their place naturally around it. My index rested easily on the trigger and I panicked. It was as if I couldn't point it at empty space but it lead my hand to point it at the people that were there. I asked the man that might have been P. to stop fidgeting and take his dangerous staff from my hands. From the little I know about guns (my resources being toy guns and films) I checked to see if the cock was pulled. The stupid thing was prepared and ready to shoot and I really did not want to be its accomplice.

Subsequently we were at the house at the summer resort again. I had just woken up when I realized that we would have to pass through the hell of public transport to get back home because my beloved had decided to let the car go home on its own pulled behind his brother-in-law's car. I was infuriated. Mostly due to the irrationality of the decision. I started packing and searching for a convenient bag to put my clothes in because my suitcase was in the car. I had made neat little piles of things on the bed with all the things I found under the bed and realized that I did not have that many things left after all. I had a white brazier I didn't plan to use any more that I gave to a cousin of P. Still raving mad I asked him to call them and ask them to bring our car back to us and that I would handle the negotiations with them from that point on. Apparently he was awful at fights and could not form an argument to save his life and for them "no" was not an acceptable answer. Damn and blast.

I woke up having slept more than enough and now I shall finish my coffee and start what appears to be a bright busy day.

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