Dream 20030204, 7:00 AM:
I am in a gymnasium, like one at a high school. There is a big patch of ice on the floor, actually one large patch and several smaller patches, and I am ice skating on them. It’s sort of a lazy twirling pattern, more like I’m doodling than doing any specific routine. I don’t feel entirely comfortable on the skates, but still noticeably better than I could do in real life, with turns, reverses, pivots, and such. The patch of ice is the shape of an oval with a little rectangle “bite” out of one of its long sides; it retains this pattern through all of its permutations. The shape isn’t very distinct now, and there are several random-shaped patches around it.
There is a guy in here, sandy wavy hair, handsome. I am talking to him, telling him that there was ice when I got here, and I figured that I ought to skate a little while there was still ice. It seems as if it will melt when the day warms up. I ask him what he does, and he explains that he teaches weight training at a high school. He goes on to explain that it’s a specialized system for sports, like performance enhancement rather than bodybuilding. He explains with a gesture, like he’s using weights to strengthen his javelin throw.
I stop skating, and he and I walk out into the hallway. There are students walking up and down, like it’s class change, although the hall isn’t crowded. I tell him something, but I don’t remember what. There are papers in a little alcove in the hallway wall, and I reach over and grab one with my mental powers, making a hand gesture as if I were picking it up, but it’s all the way across the hall and it flies into my hand. I look at the guy and shrug, and say, “Dream powers.” Then realization dawns, and I say, “Which means I’m dreaming!”
I approach the guy, and tell him to give me a kiss. He makes a startled face and sort of backs away; I move forward and he is backed against a wall, and although he starts out acting like he’s startled, he gets into it and kisses back after a minute. It’s not drawn out, just a brief kiss.
I decide that I want to go skate some more, now that I’m lucid. I say, “Come on!” and run back into the gymnasium. There are a lot of people in here now, mostly sitting down on the floor, some in chairs or bleachers. I go to the center of the floor, and tap the floor twice with my fingertip, and a pattern of blue ice starts to form, spreading outward from my finger to make a rink. It looks like parquet tiles, with a grain, but it is smooth. It has a low lip built around it, and the same pill-with-a-bite-out shape described at the beginning. The shape is now very distinct. I look at the guy, who is now sitting down in a chair; he has no skates. He has a pair of odd soft shoes with him, like the shoes that cyclists wear, blue, with velcro to close the sides, and I tell him that those might work. Then, I see the tennis shoes he is wearing, and say, somewhat mischievously, “No… just tap your heels together.” I look away and imagine that his shoes will have blades on them. I look back, saying, “Did that do it?” and sure enough, there are ice skate blades on the bottom of his tennis shoes now. He gets up and walks to the rink, and I join him, and he starts skating backward in front of me as I’m skating forward.
Now that I’m lucid, my earlier ease on the skates is gone. I feel wobbly and not quite sure, just like I would in real life. He holds out his arms and guides me, halfway between holding hands and a ballroom grip. I think he mostly holds my elbows. There are big sail-shaped pieces of fabric that are attached to the edges of the rink and tied up to the ceiling far above; they are too close, and we catch in them as we make a circuit of the rink. They are printed or sewn with some kind of pattern, I think it’s a Texas flag, or portions thereof. I lean down and touch the edge of the rink, making it expand; I figure it’s OK because there aren’t a bunch of people in here. I’m enjoying the sensation of being on the skates, although I still feel like I’m clumsy, and the guy is still skating backward helping me. My skating gets better with the practice. Then, the dream fades, and I try to spin to hold it, but find myself lying in bed. *end*