Journey dream

I was in a public square or large open space, backed by rocky cliffs and with handsome stone buildings the colour of sand built around the circumference of the space. I walked in with the intention of finding someone I knew—a man. I found him sleeping on the ground and woke him up, urging him to come with me. He was sleepy and disheveled, his blue shirt hanging loose, as were his genitals—he wasn’t wearing any pants. He was black skinned and very tall. He followed me across the dry square, out and across the road to where I was living. A lot of people had gathered on this side of the road where it was lush and green. We looked back as a crumbling roaring sounded—there was an avalanche, huge chunks of rock rolling down the cliffs and into the square, crushing some of the buildings and clouds of dust billowing into the sky. Although we knew that some people would have been killed, everyone said ‘Oh well’, and felt safe. We formed a queue and I was standing with the man and his family at the head of the queue at the backdoor of their house which was also the entrance to an old cinema. A woman who may have been his partner, led the queue in a curve around the backyard so that the people would have to walk around the yard before entering the door. Somehow this would give everyone more space. The queue of people, three or so people thick, wound around the yard, down the side of the house and out along the street. As we were about to enter, I slipped out of the line and walked quietly up the other side of the house, noticing the pale stepping stones under my feet. I walked through the front garden and found a gate among the rose bushes, leading out to the street. I walked west along the street away from the crowd and felt that I would now move on, leave this place and continue my journey. The sky was golden as the sun was setting and there were deep crimson, vivid pink and red roses blooming along the way. I began to think that I should go back and get the rest of my belongings as I had left them in the house. I thought too that I should get my car as this leg of my journey may be quite a long one. Part of me was concerned at leaving the family as we had grown close. I was holding a white plastic bag in my left hand, the top of the bag squeezed into a bunch in my fist, and realised my camera was inside—I felt relief knowing that I had it. As I was considering this, deep brown and caramel horses were cantering past. Suddenly, a girl I knew rode past bareback on one of the horses: she had blond hair, was barefoot and was wearing a white dress covered in pinkish roses which bunched up around her thighs. She called out ‘I love riding naked’, and turned her horse around so that she could come back and talk to me. She dismounted and I told her that I was leaving, in the same direction that she was going, but I felt pulled between staying and going. We considered having a drink over in the remains of the stony square but I felt urgent to leave before the sun had set.