Two strange, somehow interlocking dreams.
Tuesday, 4 August 2015 11:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
carose59"I Was Moved, But Not Far."*
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First, Pat (who had not been dead) and I went to Poland to get her a diamond engagement ring. I don't know why Poland; in the dream, I don't think I even knew we were going there, and after a very short time, I wanted desperately to go home. We never seemed to be staying anyplace—we were outside all the time, or in lobbies or shops or restaurants. And it looked like Poland was still in the 1930's, and it was winter.
Pat found a lovely ring, and the jeweler told her she could wear it for a week to see if she liked it. Only, that meant staying a week, and I really wanted to go home. I kept looking at a map, drawing routes for how to get back—apparently we had driven? only we didn't have a car, and I couldn't figure out a way to drive back. We'd have to take a plane, and how exactly had we gotten there in the first place? I kept asking Pat, but she was very involved with her soon-to-be ring and not paying much attention to me.
Then it was Switzerland, and Ingrid Bergman. She was quite young, and very sick, and had come to a base camp on the Swiss Alps to see a world renowned doctor, who was climbing the mountain. He examined her in a tent and told her to go to the hotel and wait for the messenger, he'd send her the results of his tests—such as they were.
After she'd gone, something happened to the doctor. I think he was shot with an arrow. He was lying in the snow, bleeding, and he told the messenger not to tell Ingrid she was dying, because apparently if she didn't know she was dying, she wouldn't actually die. "One of us should live," the doctor said nobly, before dying in the messenger's arms.
*Mr. Straussman
-:- -:- -:-
First, Pat (who had not been dead) and I went to Poland to get her a diamond engagement ring. I don't know why Poland; in the dream, I don't think I even knew we were going there, and after a very short time, I wanted desperately to go home. We never seemed to be staying anyplace—we were outside all the time, or in lobbies or shops or restaurants. And it looked like Poland was still in the 1930's, and it was winter.
Pat found a lovely ring, and the jeweler told her she could wear it for a week to see if she liked it. Only, that meant staying a week, and I really wanted to go home. I kept looking at a map, drawing routes for how to get back—apparently we had driven? only we didn't have a car, and I couldn't figure out a way to drive back. We'd have to take a plane, and how exactly had we gotten there in the first place? I kept asking Pat, but she was very involved with her soon-to-be ring and not paying much attention to me.
Then it was Switzerland, and Ingrid Bergman. She was quite young, and very sick, and had come to a base camp on the Swiss Alps to see a world renowned doctor, who was climbing the mountain. He examined her in a tent and told her to go to the hotel and wait for the messenger, he'd send her the results of his tests—such as they were.
After she'd gone, something happened to the doctor. I think he was shot with an arrow. He was lying in the snow, bleeding, and he told the messenger not to tell Ingrid she was dying, because apparently if she didn't know she was dying, she wouldn't actually die. "One of us should live," the doctor said nobly, before dying in the messenger's arms.
*Mr. Straussman