August 30th 2018 (Croydon)
An old couple. She is Victorian & dressed in a blue velvet two piece suit with many tucks & folds. She wears her hair in a bun. She is robust. He wears a suit (but it is from a later period – 1930s). He has side-parted & Brylcreemed hair. They are lecturers or teachers. The woman is (perhaps) dead; a ghost. The man is talking to me about phonetics. Phonetics & life & the afterlife.
When they speak to each other with an easy nature: they have been together a long time.
He says something about the ‘nature of death.’ He explains to me that there is a ‘gap’, a space, between life & death. “It is the space between two net curtains. It is a whisper of material.” He then goes on to try & explain his wife’s theories on phonetics. I can’t really grasp the whole idea, but it is revolutionary. She has discovered a ‘code’. It is a connection (as yet unknown) between words & sounds & (somehow) the afterlife. It is very complex!
Eg: The word ‘wall’ is described as falling into the ‘kinetic’ or ‘kryptonite’ category.
By way of explanation, & as an insight into both the ‘code’ & the proximity between life & death, the man takes me gently by the arm & leads me across the room. It is a large & very grand room; Victorian, with a piano, rugs & soft lighting. The room is so large – & the lighting so soft – that it is impossible to see the far side of it.
He leads me to a net curtain. It is moving in a breeze. “There are many different ways to see things,” he says. He draws the curtain back & I am shocked to see that we are now in Lyme Regis! It is beyond magic! The view is of the Cobb & we are stood on Hill Road. (the angle is quite as it would be). It is utterly shocking to me & gives me quite a start! I swear out aloud & fall backwards. He lets the curtain fall & I sense that I have seen something supernatural.
{i wake up immediately from this dream & my heart is pumping very quickly. I am afraid.}
nickreeves 
What was so scary about seeing Lyme Regis, Nick? (I know this was a dream, but do you have an explanation?)
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…Hiya, Tanja. Before the curtain was drawn back I felt that I was certainly not in Lyme Regis. It was as if he was showing me ‘another place’ – an impossible view – through the window. I grew up in Lyme Regis & it was as if he was showing me the past or the future or that I was somehow glimpsing the present…or something!? I actually have very fond memories of the town. I was just shocked that he somehow had the power to make this appear. Very odd. And, also, a little unnerving. (Probably too much cheese before bed!). Thanks for reading, Tanja. x
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Thank you for the clarification. I have often played with the idea of paying more attention to my dreams, but especially when they are unpleasant, I don’t feel inclined to dwell on them. But it might be a helpful exercise-one of these days. You must either take notes when you wake up, or have an extremely good memory.
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It’s an interesting hobby. I have a journal at the side of my bed & write immediately on waking up. I have about a decade’s worth of dreams logged. An odd thing is that when I randomly pick through old ones they are almost all instantly remembered! – even ones years old! Odd, as I say, because if i don’t write them down they will be ‘forgotten’ within seconds! Have a good day, Tanja.
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Our minds work in amazing ways!
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Oh, these are the dreams! Dig it much. My ‘death hack’ dream: I was a child again of about 12. I was being fitted for a coffin by 2 men. They did a ‘practice’ burial, where I get in the (super flimsy, cheap) coffin and am lowered into the grave. Like a dress-rehearsal to prepare me for my actual, upcoming burial while still alive. It’s not frightning; seems quite obvious in the moment. They teach me some words, about as long as a nursery rhyme, and explain that knowing and reciting them was the key to completing this ceremony. We go to a feast. But all I do is practice my recitation of the words. After they eat, the procession goes outside and watches as I’m buried alive. I keep saying the words. Then I woke up. No memory of any of the words that I had repeated throughout the dream. Annoys me to this day.
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That would bug me, too. The elusive words, but the vivid, unforgettable images. Brrr, burials! Can I say ‘dig it?!’ Thanks Casey.
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I can dig your ‘dig it,’ Nick.
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🙂
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