Interruption of a dream

An interruption of a dream.

“God here. I know you wouldn’t have believed me if I’d come to you in a dream, or one of your whacked out sessions on the weed, but you do believe in telephones, and a ‘land-line’ at that. I thought you might be a suitable guy to do me a favour, particularly as you don’t believe in me, it might be a giggle for you.”

 This call came in whilst I was in the most fabulous lucid dream I’d had in years. I had a compliant woman, no strike that, an enthusiastic sexual participant - yeah, yeah, my lucid dream, I know - but scrub around that. I had an enthusiastic sexual participant engaging me fully and we both were on the brink of orgasm when the phone rang. I tried to dismiss it, but I swear the volume of the bell kept increasing until I just couldn’t ignore it.

I have to tell you, that he, she, or it, et cetera, on the other end of the line informed me as to his, hers, or its, et cetera, credentials, which I didn’t believe in that instance. The very sudden sharp pain that travelled through my body I put down to ‘coitus interruptus’ as the culprit, a further reason for being pissed off.

   The voice stated  to me that he, she, or it, et cetera, had something to do with my being here, you know, living, possibly even more than my mother and the mysterious other human participant. Of course, that’s if I believed all this malarkey. So I can tell you I wasn’t particularly happy and quite disdainful with this sucking up, especially having my beautiful doll creation dismissed for a figment of some nutty group's imagination. Yes, I was exceedingly grumpy.

 “Look, get over it, Harry” said he, she, it, et cetera, “I’m putting myself out for you. If you really can’t get over it without some form of recompense, I’ll send one of my special consorts to work you over. She’ll satisfy you for the rest of your SHORT life if you don’t listen.”

“I,” he, she, it, et cetera, said, “who knows all about sparrows falling am in a bind. In a fit of magnanimous cogitation I said you guys could have free will. I mean real free will, not what you think of as free will, that of deciding what indoctrinated belief you would, so called, unconsciously go along with today. As I said free will. Now you owe me, Harry. Okay, you don’t know you owe me, but you do, nevertheless. I haven’t given you a hard time, have I? In fact, in your prior to internet days, I didn’t bother you at the pub nagging about you not worshipping me on a Sunday, did I? I’ve also left you in peace for many lifetimes. I even steered those sadistic pricks in Italy and Spain away from putting you on the rack. It was touch and go for awhile. You know, free will and all that. Yes, I interfered. Now you are going to ask me why I interfered, aren’t you, and I’m not going to tell you?”

If he, she, it, et cetera, thought this sales pitch was effective enough to win me over, he, she, it, et cetera, had another think coming. Obstinateness is not particularly a pleasing quality, but today, or at least tonight, it was in full dramatisation from myself. Better arguments would need to be brought to bear to account for my physical deflation than what had been raised.

You could say I was fully awake by now. I wasn’t like a prodigal son, or even apparently a mate of him of the celestial sperm donation either. I shut my mouth and listened. I have to admit, my interest was piqued by the damsel he, she, it, et cetera, might send me to ‘cure’ me of my intensive occupation with the Kama Sutra Ph.D program. He, she, it, et cetera, picked up on my distraction and my unvoiced request. He, she, it, et cetera, said she would be down as soon as I had done my task. Which, of course, stirred me into fresh wondering of what she’d get up to with me and this contemplation was still occupying me for quite a while. However, he, she, it, et cetera, must have done something for I had no further thought about it until she turned up in a dream that made all dreams not just pallid by comparison, but, but, but, … see I can’t think of suitable superlatives or what to say. 

He, she, it, et cetera, fulfilled his, her, its, et cetera, part in our bargain. The sent ‘dream companion’ was named Mary. I think he, she, it, et cetera, was pulling my leg. He, she, it, et cetera didn’t give me the impression that he, she, it, et cetera, would be of a sharing disposition, but I did wonder.

I guess you could say my life changed after that phone call. In fact, did the phone call even happen? Was it actually part of my lucid dream? Whatever it was, it got me looking at my life pretty comprehensively. I didn’t set up a church or anything ridiculous like that, but I did manage to change a few viewpoints of those that so called govern us, but that was just a side issue. More importantly I have a wonderful wife and a tribe of kids that I’ve introduced to lucid dreaming as a way of enhancing their lives. 

I haven’t had any more phone calls, lucid or otherwise and I don’t know if I regret that or not. However, I’ve achieved just about everything I ever desired for myself. The people of the world seem not to be so willing to blow itself up, or pollute the daylights out of itself. The ‘Doomsday Clock’ has been put back a half an hour.

   What did he, she, it, et cetera, ask me to do is irrelevant, as you will concur. Stating the obvious is more than just boring, it’s sacrilegious.