A new family moved into my neighbourhood and my department at work - my dream neighbourhood that is. They were Pagans of some sort and although the husband/father was a new member of the science faculty, he was incredibly superstitious. Also he wore a cape. A black satin cape embroidered with metallic, colorful stars.
At their housewarming party I met his wife Carol, in a long flowing grey gown and a pointy hat. Their their only child, Rosabella, was 14. She sat at the kitchen table in a short black velvet dress passing her hand through a candle flame. She told me that contrary to conventional medical thinking, the organs inside the body floated in air, shriveled and preserved inside the body, each attached to the skeleton by a single fibrous stalk.
I asked the father what he would do if he were a surgeon; would he abandon his beliefs if, as he was cutting into a body, things were not as he preconceived them to be. He said no. I asked why. He said it simply wouldn't happen, because he was right.
I returned to my house where I had taken to sleeping in a large drawer at the bottom of a chest. Several of my friends were bedded down in the closets and one was curled up inside a kitchen cupboard. At about 1130 my wife got up to prepare for an evening lesbian dance. My friends were going too and tried valiantly to convince me to join them. I pleaded exhaustion and returned to my drawer.
In my dream, I slept. I woke up this morning in a real bed, organs apparently intact, other than mild heartburn from eating far too late last night.
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