dream 6/5

i was with someone, ashley i think, but it didn't have to be ashley, maybe a representation of some feminine outer-half-other-you reflection persona, and we both had on these lush purple velvet capes and were in a hotel of sorts. i felt this overwhelming anxiety at something, something like not paying a bill, something that signaled the urge in me to remain hidden from some shaded source, who, if not some hotel official, i didn't know. her and i, we, we were the end of a pursuit and felt anxiety both equally, together, from what presumed as my brain's empathetic response to at that moment make her and i the same, while allowing myself to view what was happening in third person, feeling her anxiety as my own, able to watch myself. important is the seperation of our bodies, the something blocking us from being just her and i.

we're the end of a pursuit and huddle in our cloaks at the end of a hotel corridor, waiting for the right moment to spring alive and sprint towards the exit at the far end...the time suddenly now and we're running, down the long, stretching impossibly long hallway, into and out of elevators with no time to look at buttons or mirrors or floor numbers, and out, to the end of a hall that seemed longer even still as our cloaks stretched back from where we'd been huddled.

i face the front door, poised to unlock it, the door obscuring my whole vision, the door, blocking me from seeing anything, it's creamy beige whiteness with a peephole too high above my head and gold edging peeling away from it's frame. i turn the lock and pull the door open, flushing the rush of anxiety into the cool, wet street. whether ashley is with me at this point or has just become me, i don't know and i don't notice, the air is fresh and cool and i pull it deep into my lungs.

the hotel seems outside more like a museum, long flat brick against the wet gray of the street. tall, with flags and banners in red with no type fluttering along it's top wall. the sky is heavy and dark. across the street is another brick wall perpendicular to the one i've just exited. it's immensely tall from where i stand and sensing the pursuers catching up with me (now us) we cross the street, still in our purple velvet cloaks, brighter than ever against the green wet outside, shifting to even deeper indigo against the brick of the perpendicular wall. my fingers grab the clay between the stones and i pull up high. i'm climbing above the street and the building i exited, it's tiny door falling further and further below me.

i'm flat against the wall and ashley is right below me, her cloak and mine growing terrifyingly bright against the wet brick and spreading down like ink, fear growing inside me as i see the cloak's stains covering the perpendicular wall, grazing the ground in a waterfall of velvet damp. our pursuers have opened the tiny door across the street and a man in a black suit and tie exits to the outside. the man stands across the street, profiled from my sight on the perpendicular wall, and raises his face to some fresh falling raindrops from the gray sky. He turns his head, turns his body, then points his finger up past the purple ink against the brick, up at me, at us, at our flat forms, and i awake well aware that it's all over.