It’s not often that I remember my dreams, but when I do, they can be some of the most bizarre stories. Last night was one such dream. Much of it is fading, so I’ll do my best to document it before it’s gone for good.
The scene is that there’s a lot of road construction outside my house, so much so that many of the sidewalks and curbs are freshly poured concrete, leaving me to take a long route around my block.
Along the way, I see these two constructions workers, who happen to be ladies, uniquely enough. One is having no success with getting a jackhammer to break up the asphalt on this large rise in the old road.
As I approach, this small bump becomes an unnaturally high hill. the other construction worker has been able to break two holes into the side of this hill and is knelt down peering through one.
She stands and walks away, allowing me to see inside this massive cavern under the road. It is covered almost entirely with bones of all shapes and sizes, with colors ranging from bleached white to brownish yellow. Many look misshapened as if blending a skull with a pelvis, and most were oddly large as if from creatures the size of elephants.
I continued on to get a better look from the second, larger hole. That’s when I stopped and knelt, staring stunned at the sight.
Standing in the middle of this now massive cave were a circle of skeletons with their arms raised as if supporting a silver bowl that was even larger than the circle formed by the skeletons, but the true support came from long wooden poles lashed together in the middle so each stood at an angle.
The skeletons themselves appear as jumbled collections of mismatched bones formed into roughly humanoid forms. Each bone had a different shade from the one to which it’s attached. In the bowl is a seemingly random collection of bones, most broken or fractured, unlike all the other bones scattered among the cavern floor.
The macabre centerpiece is right under the peak of the hill the first construction worker is fighting to breakthrough.
For some bizarre reason, I feel the need to tell the construction team that they should call the police in the case any of those bones could be connected to missing person reports. I get the sense that they’ll just pretend it’s not there, fill it in and flatten it to keep on schedule so they can keep their jobs. Then I leave to let other people know and to encourage them to come look.
One side note, every time I thought a skull might be humanoid, it morphed into something misshapened, not even recognizable as a bone belonging to any known creature.
That’s the story in a nutshell, and I’m not sure where to begin to try and decode what meanings there may be in all of that. But maybe it’s just one of the many creative stories my brain tells itself at night so that it may enjoy experiences that are far more rich than my real life.