You kind of saw that coming, didn't you?  Well why didn't you email me?  For as long as I can remember, the signature of every post is also an email link.
 
    I had another nightmare last night, or rather a whole series of them.  Each time I woke up, I told myself that I did NOT want to return to the nightmare, and can we please stop now.
    The big underlying threat of the series of dreams was that They, whoever They were, although I seemed to know that in the dreams, were unstoppably going to burn all life off every planet that we humans were inhabiting.  That was a lot of planets.  More importantly, that was the planet upon which I lived. 
    In one, it was night and a truckload of us were tearing down the highways and sneaking through cities, probably looking for assistance.  This was a very covert and terrifying situation, because They had guards at all the borders and soldiers in every town, intending we don't go anywhere while the countdown was commencing. 
    In another, we'd found a sizable cavern with deep chambers small enough to seal off, provided we could find suitable material for it, and possibly we could hole up in the subterranean haven while all life was blowtorched out of existence outside.  There had been offices of some kind in some of the chambers; maybe welding some of these big metal desks together would provide a framework for the heat plug.  Our efforts were not helped much by the fact that we had no idea how much of the countdown remained. 
    In another dream, I was out in the scrub desert without any cover, except a broken down gut truck (aka roach coach - one of those little catering trucks that bring food to job sites) and trying to convince myself that climbing into the back of the gut truck and sealing tight the hinged flaps on the sides would provide us with enough insulation to survive.  Nevermind that my buddy Matt (I have no idea who the fuck Matt is) was back there stretched out next to the remains of somebody who hadn't fared so well in the coach.  She was roasted like a chicken, and Matt was terrified, but postulated that maybe she didn't have the flaps down.  God she stank.  I irreverently tossed her carcass out in the dust and climbed in.
    In the last, the fire was upon us.  A herd of sheep and various other animals were tearing off through the desert and I was pretty much keeping pace with them, licking flames blossoming up behind me.  For some reason the animals were running through a giant Army tent, a GP Large it must be, with the flaps of either end rolled up, so what the fuck, I'm gonna die anyway, I ran through this thing too, and saw friends standing at the other side, but they were looking off ahead where another rolling thunderhead of fire was bearing down on us.  Ok, this is pretty much the end.  Then the flames died out.  I stood there looking back behind, where some of the slower sheep got toasted, and up ahead where there was nothing, and just wondering when the flames are gonna start again, because there is No Fucking Way that They gave us a reprieve.
    There were more.  This went on all night, and when I woke up, there was a kind of nagging in my head,  about having forgotten something really important, and a feeling that something was missing but not missed much, that it was comfortable in my head without it, but maybe I should do something about it.  Then back to sleep for another episode of this nightmare.
    I see elements of "Independence Day", Six Moon Dance by Sheri S. Tepper, and "Mississippi Burning" at work here.
 
    Me and my valuable friend
    Still can fix all the pain away
    So before I end my day
    Remember
    My sweet prince
    You are the one
--Placebo 
 
    My valuable friend and I had a day out, since it was sunny and beautiful.  It was that or watch the Yankees on the tube, but the call of springtime was strong and sweet, so we took off for western NJ to get a look at the river and a couple of the lovely little towns thereby.  The trees were blossoming charmingly, and the towns were quaint and lovely.  The wind over the bridge was brisk, but New Hope on the other side was worth it.  The fascinating shops and restaurants, and the friendly people, and marvelous ice cream.  Well, dammit, I'm not a travelogue, go there yourself.  We had a good time.
    His mood was different.  He was open, relaxed, being himself, not closed and grim as he has been on some of our visits.  It was very good to see that, to see the animation begin again.  We laughed our asses off where we parked by the river, watching this seemingly rich guy stroll around near the bank with a fat ass cigar.  We were laughing because I said, "See how evil I am:  I have the overpowering urge to just go shove that fucker into the water."
    "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said.  "I'd place my foot on his ass and just kick him right out there in it."
    There was nothing wrong with the guy, he wasn't doing anything provocative, he was just next to the water, and the mean streak in me can't stand to see an opportunity go wasted.  And Rebar has the mean streak too.  Birds of a feather.
    Anyway, we didn't kick him in, but Rebar touched my hair.  He touched my hair a lot yesterday.  Yeah, I felt it coming.
    When he went to the Blockbuster to get "Mississippi Burning," I went to the grocery store for a few necessities.  I leaned my head on a box of Cap'n Crunch there on the shelf and asked myself what the fuck did we think we were doing.  Weren't any answers coming from the Cap'n.
    We got to the house and settled in with the movie.  We sat close and easy, and whenever he got up to go to the bathroom or get something to drink, I felt it, the vibration of proximity and excitement and inevitability, but I tried to ignore it.  It was a good movie, one I hadn't seen before.
    When it was over, it was getting dark, and I figured he'd have to leave.  When he leaned in to give me a little kiss, I took it, and gave it back, but it grew.  It grew very big and hot and wet and surprised me so much that I couldn't breathe.  The kisses kept coming, from both of us, and the caresses and the biting and the holding and the grasping, and I was so overcome with surprise and joy and fear and anger and joy, and incredible need, I gasped and panted and just couldn't get enough air.  I trembled and shivered and shook and wondered just how space and time had warped around again to put me back in that bubble of heaven I'd pinched off before.  Stuff was bouncing around in my head, not the least of it was the fear that seeing as how the being friends approach did not work, now he would leave me permanently.
    Oh we made love.  And it was the most powerful thing in my life ever.
 
(To be Continued)