May. 3rd, 2010

[in dreams]

May. 3rd, 2010 12:27 am
thejunipertree: (Default)
The dimensions were slipping against each other, causing tissue thin rifts where space would fold gently in and bend. Everything grew unstable and one could never be certain if one's environment would just suddenly up and change.

Pockets would form for extended periods of time and those caught within those walls would find themselves trapped; occasionally they would even find themselves changed. A bizarre merging of multiple versions, like viewing a drawing split into many parts and laid over top of one another in transparencies. Sometimes, these blips of reality were benign and barely noticeable. Others were horrifying, terrible mirrors of the life once had.

I found myself caught in a bad patch where an underground organization was working with some shadowy conspiracy to replicate the dead-eyed ones and overtake. Pod people without the pods. Some of those around me were unaffected, as I was. But not all of them. And it was difficult to tell one from another.

A group of us had holed up in an abandoned house. Its previous tenants seemed to have just gotten up and walked away, presumably in the panic which had ensued after the dimensional crease had occurred. I stood in the foyer and spoke through the hastily barricaded screen door to Neil Patrick Harris (was it actually supposed to be him? or just someone my sleeping brain parsed as just looking like him?) as he tried to convince me to open the door and let him in.


thejunipertree: (Default)

January 2011

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