Dreamland

One Size Fits All

I am packing impossibly large objects into the trunk of our rental car. (A small oak table, an overstuffed chair, a full size mirror with a gold-leaf frame...) The people who want these things moved are pleased that I am able to accommodate them. (They are strangers, but I feel that the person I am in the dream knows them.) I have the power to shrink the objects down to a manageable size by simply compressing them with my hands, that's how I fit them into the trunk. (I can't think too much about it while I'm doing it though, or it won't work.)

When we get to our destination, I take the objects out of the trunk. I try to stretch them back to their original size, but it doesn't work. The objects stretch partway back, distorted, then they break into pieces. Everyone is disappointed with me, so I leave.

I drive down to the docks and rent a rowboat to get some exercise. I row the boat out from the dock onto the glassy lake as the morning fog is lifting. I realize that I forgot to put on a life jacket, in violation of the rules of the boat rental. So what? I don't feel like turning back now, it's a beautiful day. I continue to row out towards the middle of the lake.