Yarning

I had a dream.

I was wrapping yarn around people down a line, along a high rooftop. There were Charlies and Johns and Frannies and Beths. I paused for a moment when I saw a particular girl with annoyingly blond hair and I bluntly skipped over her, instead wrapping the yarn around the next person in line. I ended with myself, tangling myself to these people. The exiled girl stared at us and then walked over to me. With a shove she left me falling over a ledge. The rest of us kept sliding over the same ledge until we were hanging from the rooftop like a barrel of monkeys. We might have even hooted and squawked like I always imagined those little plastic monkeys did in micro sound as I dangled them about. The girl at the top was laughing at us. She was holding on to us by a string. And then she let go.

I woke up feeling so confused and unusual, until I fell asleep again.

The second dream was exactly the same. I was still knitting myself to a line of people on a high rooftop. I paused at the same girl but decided to wrap the yarn around her this time. I ended with myself, tying a knot, after tangling myself to that same group of Charlies and Johns and Frannies and Beths. So this time there was no exiled girl to vengefully push me over a ledge. I instead tripped over the extra yarn. I went flying over the edge laughing. One at a time they all went flying over that edge laughing. No one at the top was holding on to us by a string. No one had to let go.

I woke up that second time feeling even more confused and even more unusual than the first time.