Dream 20020902, 6 PM:
I’m with Chris, driving in a car. We are going to someone’s house. I don’t remember exactly what was supposed to be happening, but I know that we’re supposed to be going there to cook dinner and stay there for a while, but I’m concerned that it’s not all properly arranged.
We are driving up Central, and we end up leaving the main road and being on the feeder. We drive along a part that is not paved road, but is soft-paved in gray gravel with railroad tracks running along it. We rejoin the main road again, as if this was just a little section under construction. Before we meet up with the main road again, though, I notice that there are keys buried in the pavement, and I pry one up, then another. They are in the middle of the tracks. They look like they are about the size of a deck of playing cards, with the key being a separate little part inside the rectangular shape. It looks like it is threaded on the end, and there is a part hanging on one side that appears to engage to the main threaded part to make it work or fit the keyhole place. I know that they somehow unlock the railroad way stations, and they are an old vestige of when the trains were the main way of getting from place to place. I wonder if they still work, and if they would get us into the stations. I carry one and pass one to Chris. From the top, they look like old fashioned skeleton keys. I see another one that has a pattern almost like a guitar worked on the top, and pry it up too, because I like the pattern. They look like they’re made of silver, but I know that they’re steel or iron and just plated with something to be shiny.
We get to the house where we’re heading, and I realize that I’m not entirely certain that the arrangements have been made properly, and the person with whom we’re supposed to be staying may be surprised. Chris thinks that she’s not going to be home, and that we’ll just walk in and start cooking dinner. When we get there, there are a lot of people in the house, and it seems like we’ve walked into the back door; we are standing at the door directly onto the living room, and it is dim inside and there are people sitting on couches. I start to explain that I’m a friend of Joanna’s, and describe her as being blond and pretty with chin-length hair… one of the ladies knows her, and says so, but also says that she wasn’t expecting us. I keep forgetting the lady’s name that owns the house, and I’m embarrassed. *end*