Dream of: 26 October 1995 "Spicy Food"
I was walking down a street in an upscale residential neighborhood with tall houses built of dark brown brick. The area seemed neat and proper and had the air of an English street. I was headed to a school being held on the second floor of one of the houses. The school was for young children in the first through sixth grades. However, even though I was older than the other children, I had been accepted and was attending classes with the others.
As I proceeded along I came upon another fellow walking in the same direction as I, and I walked along side him. I liked his natty clothes and jaunty step, and I thought I would like to get to know him. As the street we were on began slopping down, I lifted off the ground and began gliding along side him. At first I had begun flying without thinking, enjoying the sensation I always felt when I flew that way. But then I noticed that my companion was still walking, and that he probably didn't know how to fly, that it was a special power which I had mastered over time. I turned to him and inquired, "Can you fly?"
When he indicated he couldn't, I took it upon myself to try to teach him. Mostly my instruction consisted simply of example: taking a quick step, jumping into the air, and maintaining the position above the ground. I glided all around the street, showing how simple it was. I even added an extra dimension by leaping over some tall shrubs growing in yards along the side of the street. Clearly I wouldn't have normally been able to jump over such high bushes, but my flying gave me extra speed and power to cruise over them. Since I had never jumped over bushes that way before, I found the exercise quite uplifting.
Meanwhile my companion was continuing to try to become airborne, and finally I saw he was able to stay in the air for a short time. I called out, "You did it!"
I was happy to see him succeed. Enjoying myself so much, I returned to the top of the hill and once again began flying down the street, jumping over tall bushes in the process. I called out to my new friend, explaining that I liked flying so much that I wanted to come down the hill again.
I knew I needed to get to school. It was already almost 9 o'clock, and although school didn't begin until 9:15, all students normally were already in their seats by 8:30.
I began looking for the school among the houses on my right. All the houses had high stairs leading up to two wide doors, and all houses looked alike. I had a hard time telling which of the houses contained the school, but finally saw one which I recognized because the doors had been painted white. I bounded up the stairs, having first taken leave of my friend. Opening one of the tall, heavy wooden doors I stepped inside and turned around to shut the door. After closing the door, I was dismayed to see it pop open again. I shut it several times, but each time, again it reopened. I began examining the door more closely, trying to figure out what the problem was. It was now after 9 o'clock, and I knew I needed to get upstairs to the class.
Besides that, I had another problem. I recalled that before leaving my home, with my breakfast I had drunk two bottles of particularly strong, dark ale. I wasn't accustomed to drinking early in the morning, but for some reason this morning I had downed the ale without thinking about it. I had realized the odor of the ale was on my breath and I had tried to cover it up with food. I thought I had succeeded, but now I was beginning to wonder if the ale had been so strong that people in the school would be able to smell it. If they did, that could cause me problems, because I was certain that drinking and coming to school would be frowned upon.
Examining the door more closely, I saw that when I closed it, both the door I was closing and the second wide door next to it would come open. I saw a latch on the second door which could be pushed up into the top of the door casement. I thought if I could get the second door to stay shut, then the first door would also stay closed.
Just then a large, black woman stepped out of one of the back rooms. She was dressed in an apron and looked like a southern mammy from pre-civil war days. Obviously she worked in the house, and when she walked up to me, I enlisted her aid. She walked up to the door and began examining it. While she was standing with her back to me, I heard her mutter, "Spicy food." I thought she had smelled the ale on my breath, and had said "spicy food" as a euphemism for alcohol.
Entrusting the door to the woman, I headed back to the kitchen, hoping I could find some more food to try to cover up the smell of the ale before I went upstairs. But just as I stepped into the kitchen, another woman stepped down from the stairs leading upstairs, and stood in my path.
Now I knew I had a problem. This was the teacher of the class and the main person at the school. She was a short gray haired woman probably in her sixties. Though small, she appeared quite formidable. I could quickly see she was upset that I was late. She walked up closer to me and suddenly made a horrible snorting sound. She then looked at me with abject disgust and I knew she had smelled the ale. I was at a total loss of words. I wanted to try to explain to her that drinking at breakfast wasn't something I normally did and that I would never do it again. I wanted to plead to her not to expel me and to give me another chance. Looking at her stern face, I could see she would be difficult to convince, but I thought at least there was a chance she would listen.
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