THE REAL MEANING OF DREAMS

Mia found herself in the examination without having done the preparatory work, as she had feared she would. The first question left her gasping – she knew she had no way of answering it – she simply had not done the study. She quickly flicked through the question book – if anything the questions got harder, not easier. And it was supposed to be an open book exam, but she had not brought her textbooks, nor her notes. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever having taken notes for this subject, or even attended lectures. What was she doing here? She thought of getting up and leaving, but she blenched at the idea of everybody looking at her with contempt as she left the room, and instead she simply sat there in misery. She looked again through the questions, hoping that some ideas would come, that she would somehow be able to fake her way through. But the more she looked, the more hopeless it became, and the more the mental fog descended upon her. She would simply have to take the failed subject on the chin and hope that she could still pass the year by getting good marks in the remaining subjects. But with horror she realised that she had no idea what the other subjects were or what they involved, and she had a sneaking suspicion that she mustn’t have studied for them either. How had she got herself into this situation? She had no memory of anything after her enrolment at the beginning of the year. Had she been partying all night every night during term time? Had she not attended the tutorials? How could she have failed so miserably? How would she be able to face up to her parents with such abysmal results? She was a failure and she knew it.

A sound, harsh and strident, interrupted her pondering, imposing itself on her consciousness and breaking her concentration. What was that? It just kept on going and going and she could no longer think straight. Slowly she came to a different state of mind, becoming aware of her surroundings. She was in bed, the morning light was streaming through her window and the strident alarm was telling her it was time to get up.

A dream! She’d been asleep and it had all been a dream! With an enormous sense of relief she realised there were no exams to be studied for. She had not attended university, not taken exams, for decades! She was free!

Ben found himself walking down a busy street without remembering how he had got there. Tall grey faceless buildings beside the crowded sidewalks, with people bustling and shoving, nobody looking at anybody else. It appeared to be winter – the sky was grey and dull, and everybody was heavily dressed. He felt the cold invading his body and went to hug his clothes closer to him. Then he looked down – he was naked! No clothing at all! His hands immediately went to his groin to cover the most embarrassing part of his nakedness, but nobody seemed to be taking any notice, not even the policeman on the street corner. A newspaper stall – somehow he got hold of a newspaper – he had no idea how, he obviously had no money nor anywhere to keep it. But he wrapped the thin pages around himself to at least keep himself from the worst exposure, and looked for somewhere to hide. Perhaps an alcove, a doorway where he could conceal himself from the public gaze and work out what to do next. He had no idea where he was or what he was doing there, or where home was. He found a narrow alleyway between tall buildings and cowered there. He heard his name called – ‘Ben! Ben!’ A sense of relief flowed over him. Somebody he knew, or who knew him. He hoped he could explain how he came to be naked in a busy city street, but most of all he hoped whoever it was could help him get away from here and get some clothes. ‘Ben! Ben! Wake up! You’ll be late for work!’

He opened his eyes, muzzy with sleep. It had been a dream! Just a dream! The fear and embarrassment faded. Nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. Just a dream!

Catherine found herself at the top of a mountain, so high that she could see the world spread out about her, far below. She looked around her. The sky was a deep dark blue, almost black. Stars twinkled far, far away, like gems against a dark velvet background. She felt light, lighter than air, and cast herself forward from the mountain top. She was soaring, soaring above the landscape, so far below her. But something was wrong. She wasn’t flying, she was falling, slowly falling towards the distant ground. She seemed to retain something of her power of flight, but more and more she swooped downward, the thin air streaming against her body. She seemed divorced from the land so far below her, but she knew that it would be only a matter of time before she plummeted to the ground, to her death. She could not face the prospect and the fear almost overwhelmed her. But still, almost as strong as the fear was the exhilaration of flight, no matter that it was uncontrolled and that in too short a time she would die, slamming into the unyielding earth, crushed and broken by the impact.

The feeling of falling faded somehow; now she was in a rooming house – she had no idea how. People everywhere, but she could not find the staircase that led to her room. And she realised with shock that she had no idea of where her room was, what floor it was on, how to get out of the building or what she was doing there in the first place. Could she pay her bill? She had no idea. And where was her room? Her luggage? All her possessions? And suddenly bright light, dazzling and disorienting. A voice – ‘You were really away this time, calling out in your sleep, rolling around. Woke me up, slammed your elbow into my side. Look at the sheets! They’re coiled all around you!’

A dream! It had all been a dream! How could it seem so real, so convincing? It was as though everything was real, that she’d been convinced everything was genuine, even though it made no sense at all now that she was awake. She’d never been on a mountain top – she was afraid of heights. And she’d never – never - been in a rooming house. How could it all have seemed so real? She sighed with relief, but puzzled still.

‘Still not getting any results, Zarg?’ asked Zdref.

‘Nothing. All we get is jumbled incoherent images and fear and anxiety. Are you sure this is supposed to work? We’ve been trying to communicate with these Earthians for ages now, and never had any success. They just don’t seem to have telepathy at all, and all our attempts to contact them have been worse than useless. I think we need to cancel the attempt and look for another race more amenable to telepathic communication. These Earthians are hopeless.’

‘I’m inclined to agree with you, Zarg. Well, we tried. I think the galaxy would be better off without a race that can’t even communicate on such a basic level. Proceed with eliminating the species – they don’t deserve to exist.’