Bon Appetit (a dream)

I dreamed I was in a large room, standing at a stainless steel table. On the table was a partially dismembered animal. As I moved the pieces of the body, I found the head and spine  were intact and still connected to the pelt. This was a large wolf. I was shocked to see something in the face of the wolf suggest it was still aware and it wanted the human skull I only noticed at that moment on the same table. There was some connection between these two.


A haughty man spoke to me impatiently, indicating I was doing a bad job butchering this wolf. He was not there to teach me. I said, “I have two questions: (1) if I care, how can I learn to do this correctly? And (2) if I don’t care, can I leave?” Silently indicating his disdain, he fumbled for something to give me from a bracelet or ring of tokens.


I left the large kitchen, entering a beautiful huge restaurant with a high curved ceiling, everything marble or white. The far side of the restaurant was open to the dark night sky.


I passed a table at which someone I knew was seated. They ask me a question but I brushed them off.


The open side of the restaurant wasn’t an exit. I had to scramble over a series of low walls to get out. I woke.



A few notes:


The butcher’s table wasn’t as gory as one might imagine. Despite the deep red meat, there was no blood. I did not think the wolf was in pain, just in need of finishing something.


The supervisor was played, as it were, by Marcos Inaros, a character from The Expanse.


The effect of the restaurant was roughly like an open clamshell.


I got up at 4am to make notes. This was too important a dream to risk forgetting. Though I have recalled many dreams, this is the first time I’ve gotten up for one in a long time.


As I laid awake afterward, I thought about Station Eleven, which I started reading the day before. Only one thing directly relates: me struggling over the low walls is similar to Jeevan climbing onto the stage. Otherwise, my main thought was how much better the writing is in Station Eleven, though I think my ‘vision’ (my dream) is remarkable.

Share this…