Phil (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} pwtucker) wrote,@ 2004-01-24 11:10:00 |
|
Strange dream last night.
An underground Roman temple had been converted into a restaurant by the cultists who owned it. It was huge, built with massive stone blocks, torches flaring along the walls, thronged with fellow cultists dining out. Went in with Will and some other people to dine, sat down and examined the menu. All the dishes were shaped like ancient Roman boats and ships as seen from above - they looked like swords. Strange.
The meal the cultist restaurant was famous for was this woman. She stood in about twelve raised alcoves around the room, alive and talking to the diners. In each progressive alcove she was older than the last. Thus in the first she was a young woman of 18 years, and in the last she was a crone. What one did if you elected to eat her was take these spear length fondu forks and go up to her, talk to her if you liked, and then spear the fork into her flesh and tear some free, take the gobbet of meat back to your table and cook it over a flame there. If you chose to eat of her you had to work your way through each of the twelve alcoves. Pretty gruesome. Nobody at our table opted for that option; we all picked just appetizers.
(I think the woman was some sort of deity, an enemy of the cultist's goddess who had been defeated in a war long past and condemned to eternal torture in this restaurant.)
Other bits of my dream that I am too lazy to describe in full:
My being at an airport and missing my plane to the cult temple due to thinking I could still board at the last minute and just ride the moving sidewalks reading magazines - I was wrong.
Being led into the temple which, as a cover, was disguised as some sort of emergency water relief for the adjacent river. It was operated by smacking a squash ball into its rotten wooden supports so that they fragmented, lowering the temple's floor and allowing the water to run through it. This all made sense in my dream.
After the temple bit, being in a dugout with this fitness coach who was doing a question and answer session with these fanatical aerobic instructors.
An underground Roman temple had been converted into a restaurant by the cultists who owned it. It was huge, built with massive stone blocks, torches flaring along the walls, thronged with fellow cultists dining out. Went in with Will and some other people to dine, sat down and examined the menu. All the dishes were shaped like ancient Roman boats and ships as seen from above - they looked like swords. Strange.
The meal the cultist restaurant was famous for was this woman. She stood in about twelve raised alcoves around the room, alive and talking to the diners. In each progressive alcove she was older than the last. Thus in the first she was a young woman of 18 years, and in the last she was a crone. What one did if you elected to eat her was take these spear length fondu forks and go up to her, talk to her if you liked, and then spear the fork into her flesh and tear some free, take the gobbet of meat back to your table and cook it over a flame there. If you chose to eat of her you had to work your way through each of the twelve alcoves. Pretty gruesome. Nobody at our table opted for that option; we all picked just appetizers.
(I think the woman was some sort of deity, an enemy of the cultist's goddess who had been defeated in a war long past and condemned to eternal torture in this restaurant.)
Other bits of my dream that I am too lazy to describe in full:
My being at an airport and missing my plane to the cult temple due to thinking I could still board at the last minute and just ride the moving sidewalks reading magazines - I was wrong.
Being led into the temple which, as a cover, was disguised as some sort of emergency water relief for the adjacent river. It was operated by smacking a squash ball into its rotten wooden supports so that they fragmented, lowering the temple's floor and allowing the water to run through it. This all made sense in my dream.
After the temple bit, being in a dugout with this fitness coach who was doing a question and answer session with these fanatical aerobic instructors.
