At first, I think I am charged with lesbianism and am unconcerned because I am confident I can ‘prove’ that I am not.
(Neither a waking nor lucid dream, but a degree to both…)
I am in a dungeon with a floor once painted blue,* now worn almost completely to the bare stone.
I know there is a giant stone man at the top of the stairs down into the dungeon and I am terrified. At first I only sense and hear him. There is a distant roaring or rushing sound which may be the sound of him or the sound of my terror or the sound of the dream itself. 1 1 I have been told that enlightenment has a sound—like a helicopter on the horizon.
Other people, mostly men, come in and out of the dungeon.
I am distracted by the action and momentarily forget about the stone man.
Then he makes his presence known by descending a few steps. I can see his legs as large as boulders on the stairs and, again, I am terrified.
Now I am alone in the dungeon with the stone man.
Again, I am distracted and forget he is there.
He comes down a few more stairs but this time he means to come down all the way. He is quickly descending and I know I must run up the other stairs on the opposite end of the room. I am in utter panic. I try to calculate if I will be able to make it in time. I do not even know if there is a door at the top of the stairs and if there is, whether it will be unlocked.
Then I think I am dreaming and what one needs to do in dreams, especially in moments of fear, is face it. I know I must turn and look. I make myself stop running for the stairs. My heart is racing.
(I do not remember if I look but I don’t think so.)
Next I am above the dungeon in a room with people. They are telling me something important but I have difficulty understanding. It takes forever to realize that I am being put on trial as a witch. Apparently, I am accused of being in league with one of the women in the room (it may be JB). At first, I think I am charged with lesbianism and am unconcerned because I am confident I can ‘prove’ that I am not.
Another woman sitting on a stone ledge slightly above the rest of us—sort of like a judge—tries to impress upon me that I do not seem to understand the seriousness of the matter. I begin to comprehend that I am not going to escape the condemnations and sentencing. It is a serious matter.
I wake with the sound of the stone man’s rushing or roaring and carry it with me all day.
* long after this dream—we discovered that the stone walls of the basement kitchen had once been painted blue when we scrap off the yellow paint