This is a series of four or five dreams, all recalled imperfectly.
I was in an enormous classroom when I noticed That Boy. I tried to think of ways to attract his attention that would not be obvious, knowing that any effort would be futile. A Beatles song came on, and I couldn't help dancing. But is that how I wanted to be seen?
I walked into a room where a teacher was performing evil experiments on EP, torturing him with his mind. Although he inflicted no physical harm, the man would think of a torture, and it would happen to a cartoon projection that I could see. It felt real to EP. The cartoon was missing an eye and was covered with burns and other injuries. The torturer then imagined eating EP's eye.
I received an anonymous card with a return address of "Army Concert Band." I wondered which of my friends had sent it, although I found the anonymity creepy. Inside was a tattered antique booklet graphically depicting the tale of two Indian lovers. The beautiful tiny paintings showed them nude, making love. One even moved, like an animated graphic. I marveled at what it could mean, but it made me nervous, too.
Off in the distance was a breathtaking tropical sunset, and suddenly I realized I was married to That Boy. We were traveling with a woman who I suspected of being behind the "Army Concert Band" mailing. As for the marriage, it never went beyond outward forms, and I could not think that it was real. We were disconnected people acting out roles. I worried that he would find the booklet; perhaps I thought that it would look like I was setting expectations that could never be realized. I tried to be loving, at least outwardly so.
The time came to take a flight. I was especially nervous about it. The runway was a strip surrounded by water. The plane never reached takeoff speed, and we ended up somewhere else, still attempting to move more quickly. I would have been more frightened had I known what had happened and how we had arrived there.