In The Colorless Car, Out In Fields of Fête

Last night I had a peculiar dream.

I found myself in a small two door car. It was early morning or late afternoon, dark and raining outside. I was preparing to sleep. I slept in this car regularly and it was home to me. It felt very cozy even though I well acknowledged how unusual and awkward it was. I was also aware of the danger, being as exposed as I was.

The car was shades of grey and black, all color especially washed out by the pitter patter of ash gray rain. The only colors that jumped out were the yellow lights on the dash and the red lights on the door locks. I folded back a seat and put my head down.

I next found myself at some sort of outdoor festival. There were many tables and booths set up all over large rolling green hills. A pair of young women approached me and told me they wanted to “see the artist draw”. I was hesitant at first, turning my attention to research on my phone instead (it was Wikipedia if I properly recall) but eventually I agreed and started to plan out what I would put to paper. Instead of staying around the two women just turned and walked away. I watched them, puzzled, and they just vanished into the air at about 30 feet away or so. Just faded away.

So I closed my sketchbook, which I now realized was lined and rather full, and made my way to the stands and booths to perhaps buy a new sketchbook. There were many lovely stalls all with rustic handmade books but I never did make a purchase.

And that was the entirety of it as I can remember.


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