My mom dreamt that we were actresses on our movie set.
In a story set a dozen decades ago, she and I were dressed in corsets and hoop skirts, and everything was in shades of sepia.
You know, 'cause that's how things were in the 1800s. The century of sepia. (The whole dream is a blend of timelines, so try to suspend reality with me for a moment. Since it was a dream and all.)
In this scene, we were to walk from one wooden veranda to another in the downtown city block, traipsing ourselves across the dusty road.
We step into the street, and suddenly a car zooms past, nearly crushing me. She pulled me back just in time.
We step into the street, and snipers are shooting at us from atop another building. She pulled me back to safety, just in time.
Take Three. Take Four. Take Five.
We tried many times to cross the street, and each time, we narrowly missed a dangerous curveball.
In exasperation (and a corset and hoopskirt), she shouted to the directors, "How am I supposed to know what's coming?! I can't do this scene if you don't give me the script!"
It doesn't take a skilled analyst to draw the connection between her psyche and her dream world.
How am I supposed to know what's coming? Does anyone have the script?