swimming, eel and chase

We swam in a giant rock pool by the sea. The water was clear, turquoise and cold. It was like magic, diving like dolphin - so liberating. I swam with my family, my partner and my dog. We moved like fish in a school. After a time, someone announced they were going to reveal the giant eel in the pool. I was surprised as I hadn't seen an eel in the water, but unalarmed. We gathered around and a man tapped a rock, luring the eel to the surface. Sure enough, it came, but, at first, it seemed only to be the size of a tree snake. As we watched, it slowly revealed its full size: it was enormous; a giant, indeed. It's girth was perhaps a foot or more wide and, how long it was, I do not know, for it swam beneath the water - elusive, in and out of sight. At a guess, it may have been twenty metres or more. It was regally patterned, deep gold and black. I swore not to swim again and a man, upon hearing me, questioned why, when the water was so beautiful. I told him though the eel would not likely harm us, I couldn't risk it. 'I love my dog too much to see anything happen to her', I said. At that moment, a woman riding a very tall black horse rode past. She rode bareback and a young child sat in front of her. My dog ran after the horse and the woman slowed to reach down and raise my dog up onto the horse's back, between the child and herself. They rode away. I called out after them, but to no avail. I ran. I ran as fast as I possibly could, around the rocks and through the trees. I could see the horse ahead, but I could not gain ground. I noticed my dog was wagging her tail, enjoying the ride. I chased them through a shopping centre, pushing past shop assistants and customers. Up stairs, down stairs, around corners, in and out of buildings, but they were so fast and always ahead. Finally, I chased them right back to where the chase had begun: by the rock pool by the sea. The horse slowed and the woman alighted, bringing the child and my dog to the ground with her. I ran straight to her, gasping for breath, and hit her as hard as I could. 'You took my dog,' I cried. She looked surprised, but not hurt. 'I was just taking her for a ride', she said.

keep moving

In a pool. My blankets, sheets and quilt are heaped on the cement at the side of the pool. As I swim, I see the quilt slip off the pile and into the water. There is nothing to be done so I continue swimming.

I am angry with someone I care about. Rather than say anything, I lie belly down on a board, much like a surfboard without any fins, and slide down the hill, following the path. I race down at breakneck speed, shoot past trees and driveways, steer my board by leaning left or right until I swerve around a sharp bend and reach the busy road. Then I climb the hill toward the house, board under my arm, calm.

layers

I was walking, at night, alone. I ventured into a small, dark cabin and, finding nothing there, I opened the door, intending to leave. A tall man stood in the doorway, blocking my path. He said nothing, but closed the door again, locking it. I was trapped inside and wondered what would happen. After a time, he opened the door and ushered me out into a yard where several other people were waiting. I was instructed to climb up a ladder, onto a diving platform above the pool, where I was to undress and then dive into the pool. The people sat around, awaiting my performance. I climbed up and began to undress, but beneath each layer of clothing was another layer. There was nothing provocative about the routine; each item of clothing was sensible rather than attractive. I removed a pair of black socks to find sports socks; under my jacket, I wore several layers; under my pants, were other pairs of pants; and so on. Concerned about appearing naked in front of the audience, I seemed to conjure layer upon layer of clothing.

The following night, a similar dream:

I was in the bathroom of my grandmother's house, undressing so as to get ready to go somewhere. In the bathroom with me was someone I trust implicitly. I removed my shoes, my dress and found I was wearing rather old-fashioned undergarments: a camisole and a half-slip petticoat. I attempted to remove the camisole, but, upon pulling it up toward my head, I found myself stuck. My friend helped me; he did his best to gently tug the top up and over my head, and then helped me with the next item of clothing. Again, there seemed to be several layers of clothing, appearing as I removed each previous item.