Friday, November 23, 2001

Parking Space Tiger Gate

I am visiting some old friends from college -- my old roommate, Paul, and his wife Kim. We are sitting in the living room at their house, talking about old times and catching up with each other.

We decide to go out for dinner. We walk outside; it is late evening. I get in my truck and they get in their car.

I follow them to downtown High Point.

Paul and Kim have a sub-sub compact car that looks like something out of a 60's British film. Other cars pass on the street -- everyone else in High Point has one too.

The streets are about the width of an alleyway and it is very hilly, sort of like San Francisco. I find it difficult to navigate my truck on the narrow streets and fall behind them in traffic.

Finally, I reach the restaurant where we are meeting.

All the parking spaces are too small. I can’t find a place wide enough to park my truck. I drive around the block and double park, filling two parking meters with change.

When I enter the restaurant, Paul and Kim are already seated and have food.

I sit down and we talk some more.

Then, we are back in their living room.

“Why don’t you go outside and say hello to Buttons,” Paul says.

Buttons is a small dog Paul and Kim had many years ago.

I walk through the house and open the back door in the kitchen. I step outside. It is daylight.

The backyard behind their house is all fenced off, with the fence connected to the house so that Buttons can’t get out.

At the far edge of the yard, I notice that a gate is open.

There is a small cat there, rubbing against the gate and wanting to get in. I decide to close the gate to keep the cat out of the yard.

I walk over and shoo away the cat.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I tell her.

I close the gate and turn around, watching Buttons play with a small ball in the yard.

I hear a growl.

The cat is on the other side of the gate. It has transformed into a lynx.

Another open gate has appeared in front of me, making the fenced in area smaller, like a maze.

I shoo away the lynx.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I tell her.

I close the gate and turn around, watching Buttons play with the small ball.

It happens again. And again.

Each time, the beast turns into a larger member of the cat family. I tell the animal they shouldn’t be there and close the gate.

The fenced in area became smaller and smaller.

A beautiful large tiger appears.

“This is ridiculous,” I say to myself.

I reach out my hand, rubbing it against the tiger’s neck. I feel it’s soft fur and massive body against my fingers.

The tiger purrs and licks my hand.

I wake up.

I am in Goatboy's cabin, visiting him. His partner Lane is there.

We have all just gotten out of bed.

I turn to Lane, stretching and waking myself up.

“I think you’re influencing me to dream about cats,” I tell him.

Lane looks at me, puzzled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.

Then I woke up.