A few nights ago I dreamed I received a pair of boots. I don’t remember the rest of the dream; only that the boots were brown, lace-up, ankle high, and had a thick, soft lining of make-believe fur. Last night I was at a birthday reunion and someone there pulled a pair of boots from a bag, and gave them to me. The boots looked like the ones in my dream. I didn’t say anything about the dream, or thought much about it, because I no longer place any value in premonitory psychic “bites” I receive in my dreams. They’ve brought me nothing but meh, as they are inconsequential at best. Remember that Christopher Walken skit where he spoofs his “Dead Zone” character as he predicts inconsequential events? That’s me and my dreams about the future. No lotto numbers, no presages about terrorist attacks, nothing important or meaningful or useful.
A while back I had this dream that I was watching TV when a news announcer interrupted whatever regular programming to inform viewers about the sudden emergence of two volcanoes somewhere in central U.S. I’m not going to embarrass myself by showing my ignorance of U.S. geography and admitting that when the dream TV showed satellite photos of the two volcanoes, I thought they were in Utah. The material point is that the event was cataclysmic in nature to the degree that mass extinction was imminent, as the volcanoes’ craters were hundreds of miles in diameter, and their ash clouds would eventually cover us all. Naturally I decided to use my growth powers to save the day.
Normally that is the moment in a dream when I feel myself grown, and all manner of tingly fun takes place. Instead, the next second I found myself an ultra giantess. I’d thought that if I also grew the ice cubes in my freezer, I could put them in the craters, effectively extinguishing them; so I found myself carrying a cumbersome amount of ice cubes cupped in my palms and against my body. I looked at “Utah” (really Kansas), and to my dismay I discovered that someone had already dumped ice cubes in the volcanoes, and done a piss-poor job of it. Some of them were scattered about, crushing neighboring cities, and there weren’t enough cubes to counter all the lava beginning to bubble forth from where Topeka and Burlington used to be.
Never mind that my feet crushed thousands more as I approached the pot-sized volcanoes and put them out with my ice cubes. In a normal giantess dream this would have been the time to come on to a city and make out with it, have my way with its citizens in a gentle fashion, kill almost no one as an inevitable consequence… but no. I completed my task and woke up, feeling frustrated and wtf’ey. To prevent this terrible dream from ever coming true, I’m abstaining from making ice cubes for the following twelvemonth. That ought to take care of it.