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Tarantulove: Dreams of Dogs, Lace and Guns Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Posted by Grace in strange days.
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I was perched on the roof of a high rise.

A tiny earbud, left ear, whispered out, Building, 12 o’clock. Third story down. Fourth window North.

I adjusted weight, position, setting the scope into focus. Stylized apartment; strong but minimalist lines.

The voice, still clear, calmly states, Target has entered residence. You know what you must do.

Slow, grounding exhale. I know.

There is a small click, no more direction will come.

I look to my side, the German shepherd beside me is still, calm.

Once more exhale, slow grounding. Look back through the scope. Minor adjustment to the position of my arms. The rifle is an extension of my eyes, my arms.

Looking through the scope, all else fades to inconsequential detail. The sound of the birds fades. The chill from the breeze, just reaching me from the lip of cover the building offers, no longer prickles skin just barely covered by lace. Discomfort from the concrete underneath me fades.

There is just the dog, the target, the space between, the rifle, and myself. What I must do.

Watching, waiting, there is only this. The rest of the world could pause and everything would seem the same from here.

The target does not appear. I note it but there is no concern. Only a matter of time.

The dog, watching, still as myself, pricks up its ears and turns. Low growl.

This pulls me out from the supreme concentration. I look over my shoulder. There is a man, perhaps 20 yards away, face silhouetted by the sun from this point of view.

He’s not going to come.

That voice. I unhand the rifle slowly. Begin to rise. The shepherd stands and bares its teeth. Once upright, my hand falls sharply to my side. The dog settles, begrudgingly, returning to the low growl. The wind hits my scarcely covered skin full force. As does the epiphany that comes with the recognition of that face.

The voice sounding into my ear orders, Stop. But now I understood.

—————————————————————————

…And then I woke up.

I finally gave in and took some cold medicine last night. The above is what I got from it.. So very strange, the side effects of cold medicine.

I normally don’t take cold medicine because I tend to react strongly to such things, and prefer to let my body heal itself on its own when it can, but I got talked into it yesterday. Been hit with a cold thats just being nasty. Still, with sleep like this, I think there should be no more cold medicine for me, eh?

For those dream interpreters out there, I hazard a question. What is all of that supposed to mean?

Sniper rifles + lacy undergarments + German shepherds = ?

I’d go back to bed, but I need to study. I’m gonna go make some tea. Hope everyone out there in the sphere is without a cold.

Song of the Day: Tarantulove – Hawksley Workman

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1. medical question blog » Blog Archive » Tarantulove: Dreams of Lace and Guns - Wednesday, February 27, 2008

[…] Grace created an interesting post today (Tarantulove: Dreams of Lace and Guns).Read a snippet here, but follow the link for the whole thing.Still, with sleep like this, no more cold medicine for me, I think, eh? For those dream interpreters out there, I hazard a question. What is all of that supposed to mean? Sniper rifles + lacy undergarments + German shepherds = ? … […]


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