Dream of: 20 June 2000 "Corroded Flute"

Although I seemed to be in a classroom, I was lying on a bed, holding my silver flute in my hand. The flute (which I hadn't played in a long time) needed polished, and it even had several spots of corrosion on it. I was particularly concerned about the appearance of the flute because judge McGuire, strong and virile, was standing on the far side of the room, looking out a window. I recalled that McGuire was an excellent flute player, and that he had given me a flute lesson once long ago. At that time I had shown promise as a flute player, but since then I had neglected the flute so badly, I didn't want McGuire now to see me with my unpolished flute. I tried to conceal the flute, hiding it under my body, but I still held onto it with my right hand, placing my fingers on the keys where they belonged. I still liked the feel of the flute, even if I couldn't play it well.

Other people began showing up in the room, including a woman (probably in her mid 20s) who walked over to me and sat down on the bed. She looked somewhat like Janice (a former classmate from junior high school) and although she didn't know me well, she was quite friendly. She quickly noticed my flute and wanted to look at it. Reluctantly I handed it to her, explaining that I needed to polish it. I told her I needed a certain kind of silver polish which came in paste form, and with which I could shine up the flute and even remove the spots of corrosion.

As the woman was looking at the flute, McGuire had turned in our direction and moved closer. I took the flute back in my hand, not wanting McGuire to see it, but wanting to try to explain that I intended to clean up the flute and once again begin playing it. Desperately, and somewhat pathetically, I interjected, "I can change," trying to convey my intention to once again begin playing the flute. Even as I spoke, however, I realized how hollow my words sounded. How many times had I uttered these same words in the past, and not followed through?

McGuire glanced at me somewhat disdainfully, but I still had the feeling he thought there was some hope for me, and he didn't rule out the possibility that I might indeed change and once again begin playing the flute. Finally, he turned and walked back over to the window.

Once again I began talking with the woman. Since I knew she was interested in dreams, I told her about an interesting dream group which I had attended earlier in the morning. I tried to talk low so McGuire wouldn't hear, since I was unsure what he would think about dream groups. I explained to the woman that the group had been conducted by one of my law school professors. The woman seemed interested, and I finally invited her to come to my home later in the day, where I was planning to have another dream group.


My wife Carolina and I were sitting in the Summerdale Drive House when we heard someone at the door. We both went to the window and looked out. The woman with whom I had earlier been talking, along with another woman, was standing at the front door. I recalled having invited her to visit me, but now that she was here, I really didn't want to talk with her. When no one answered the door, she and her friend finally gave up and began walking away. I felt guilty as I watched them. It wasn't too late. I could still open the door and holler out. Suddenly, I decided I would do just that, and I headed to the door to open it.

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