hummingwolf (
hummingwolf) wrote2007-05-13 11:33 pm
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In the dream a group of people appeared almost as if from nowhere, strangers to the area who brought with them a promise. They would sell you one special item or service--a new one on sale each time they visited--for the price, apparently, of one small dream. The first time they came round, I didn't quite catch the details of their offer, so I couldn't quite tell if they wanted to hear about a specific type of dream you'd had, or if they somehow had a way of taking a dream from you so it wouldn't be a part of you anymore. And I couldn't quite tell if they meant the common variety of dream you have at night, or one of the other kind of dream, the deepest longings you cherish for your life.
Because I hadn't been paying attention the first time, simply refusing the offer outright, I really had no way of knowing if what they sold could possibly be worth the price. The people around me who had bought the first week's special all seemed happy with what they'd gotten out of the bargain. When the strangers came by the second time, the offer sounded more enticing, but even though I'd thought I was listening, I still didn't manage to catch the details. I still had no clear idea what part of themselves people had so willingly given up. So I turned to the salesman closest to me as he sat smiling in a kitchen chair, and I asked him to please tell me again, very specifically, what the asking price was.
He beamed at me, happy to see the known skeptic looking closer at the bait. "Well, isn't this a surprise!" he dimpled as he leaned back in the chair, folding his hands over his belly and preparing to launch into his spiel. This time as he spoke, I listened. I listened very closely. And even though I was paying his words as much attention as I could as he talked and talked and talked and talked, the only thing in all his verbiage that I was certain was really part of the answer to my question was this: "Thursday." He was still talking when I woke up.
Because I hadn't been paying attention the first time, simply refusing the offer outright, I really had no way of knowing if what they sold could possibly be worth the price. The people around me who had bought the first week's special all seemed happy with what they'd gotten out of the bargain. When the strangers came by the second time, the offer sounded more enticing, but even though I'd thought I was listening, I still didn't manage to catch the details. I still had no clear idea what part of themselves people had so willingly given up. So I turned to the salesman closest to me as he sat smiling in a kitchen chair, and I asked him to please tell me again, very specifically, what the asking price was.
He beamed at me, happy to see the known skeptic looking closer at the bait. "Well, isn't this a surprise!" he dimpled as he leaned back in the chair, folding his hands over his belly and preparing to launch into his spiel. This time as he spoke, I listened. I listened very closely. And even though I was paying his words as much attention as I could as he talked and talked and talked and talked, the only thing in all his verbiage that I was certain was really part of the answer to my question was this: "Thursday." He was still talking when I woke up.
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