Warping

Dream Info: January 2011
Realism Intensity: 7
Content: PG

There were certain locations on the earth where a high quantity of a particular metal concentrated energy and bent space-time. Travelers from long ago marked these spots with a symbol of a circle with a line coming out the bottom with two dashes on either side. Only a few people knew of their significance.

I was one of them. Not long ago a friend had discovered that a Garmin GPS could control where one warped. The traveler would set a waypoint on the GPS to one of the known warp gates and select “navigate.” The elevation marked on the GPS was the date you wished to travel to. When the warp occurred the traveler would be taken to that gate and that time.

This was an incredible innovation. Previously, traveling was incredibly dangerous. A traveler had no way to control the warp and would rarely be seen again. There was no way to travel back to his correct gate and time.

Now, we could explore in safety.

I stood on a mountain, just below the summit and waited. I held the GPS tightly in my hand. I waited. The warp gates triggered randomly. There was no way to know how frequently or when one would fire. They generally responded to a person’s presence. One would stand on the spot and in seconds or minutes the energy would build and then discharge causing the warp.

I had been on this gate for five minutes. That was a long time.

My hair suddenly stood on end and the air felt thick. I braced myself. There was a flash that blinded me and the roar of air rushing by. When my eyes cleared I was standing in a field. The sun was warm and the sky blue. Green wheat swayed around me gently.

It had worked.

I ran two miles to a farm house. There, just behind the barn, was a mound of rock. I selected my next way point and stood on the symbol. With seconds I flashed to fifty years later into the heart of Chicago.

I caught my breath and looked at the crowds surrounding me. I had appeared in the middle of a mall. Apparently it was just before Christmas. No one was looking at me. No one had noticed my appearance.

Over and over I warped. I explored location after location. There were so many scenes and adventures and sadly I cannot recall them now upon writing. I know I stayed around the present for safety reasons.

I do recall:

Travelling to the future. I was in a huge building. There were many people around. I located the nearest warp gate and made for it. Security officers in the building turner me around. Oddly, there was another gate listed on my GPS in the same building. They were never that close. I made for it only to be stopped before reaching the hall it was in. A lady appeared and talked with me. I quickly realized she knew what I was looking for.

She followed me everywhere. She hung on my arm and acted as if she were attracted to me. I gathered from our conversations that she had no way of controlling the warp gates and knew I did. I had come through one and headed directly to the two nearest gates. I had never considered being watched or tracked and felt foolish at how obvious I had been. It was clear I had a detailed map, which in and of itself was rare. If I had control as well…well, that would be quite powerful.

After many days I managed to get away from the woman. I sneaked into the building. As I approached the warp gate, a location in the middle of a room, a Tyrannosaurus Rex crashed into the room. It roared and chased me. I managed to get it downstairs, and ran back to the warp gate. I stood on it clutching my GPS and waited. Nothing happened. The T-Rex rushed into the room. My heart stopped and my mind raced. I didn’t dare to move. I could miss the warp and would have to wait for days, possibly, for it to recharge. And I would die from the T-Rex. I squatted and prayed for the darn warp as the T-Rex lunged for me. Suddenly it shimmered into the form of a man: a security guard. He grabbed me and I threw him off. In the doorway stood the woman. She barked a command to the guard and they both rushed me. I picked up my GPS and saw that the way point had been unselected.

I was blinded by the flash.

I had traveled to a distant location. The land was parched and burned. I entered a valley of hardened lava. It was wavy and smooth, not yet broken down by time and weather. The valley was as a maze and I wandered, confused, trying to find the warp gate. There were no satellites above to guide me. I cursed. I was completely lost.

Using the compass on the GPS, and doing some math, I was able to figure out my location. I triangulated where I was to the closest gate and started hiking. At best, it was only a rough estimate.

A day later I knew I was close. I also knew I was no longer alone. I had seen something large moving along my path. It was a dinosaur. And this time it wouldn’t become a man I could fight off when it caught me.

I ran in a pattern looking for the gate, crisscrossing the black stone. After several minutes the dinosaur appeared in a channel behind me and raced after me. There, on the side of the lava channel in front of me I saw the warp symbol. I said a silent prayer of gratitude and lunged for it. I clung to the slope over the spot, and turned. The dinosaur leapt for me. It was huge and impressive. It crashed into the stone, but I was no longer there.

And so much more I cannot remember…

The Quarry

Dream Info: February 3, 2009
Realism Intensity: 6 (out of 10)
Content: PG

I stepped into the antechamber of a large stone mansion. Light spilled in from the wide doorway. There were no lights…no electricity of any kind, it appeared. The walls were bare stone, cold and solid.

I signaled my friend to follow me as I opened the next thick wooden door and stepped into the black chamber beyond. Cool light spilled into the room from several tall windows. My eyes quickly adjusted and I could see a large table with ornate chairs. Some large, soft, sitting chairs, a couch, and an enormous fireplace, empty but blackened. My friend closed the door behind us.

I walked around the room lifting objects here and there. There was no dust. My foot steps echoed until, in front of the fireplace, I came upon a thick, coarsely woven rug. High upon the walls were paintings. I stood below the nearest and tried to make out it in the dim light. It was a large oil painting and reminded me of something you would see in a catholic church.

Sudden light appeared in the corner. I jumped back. An old woman stood squinting at us with an oil lamp in her hand, raised slightly above her head.

“Eh, Mario, vieni qui. C’abbiamo dei ladri,” the woman croaked.

A tall skinny man promptly appeared in the hall doorway behind her. He had on an undershirt, worn pants, and sad slippers.

“Bah, Maria, non mi sembrano i ladri. Se non c’e di che, stai zitta e lasciami stare,” the man grumbled. He punctuated his sentence with a waved hand, dismissing us. Maria swatted his shoulder. He pushed her away and trundled back into the dark hall.

I assured the woman we were not thieves. We had no idea this mansion was inhabited and had come exploring.

She walked past me casually and mumbled, “Esploratori, son’ peggiore dei ladri.”

We befriended her and stayed for dinner. She and her husband were quite pleasant. I expressed how shocked I was to have found a structure such as their house in the United States. We don’t build with solid stone often. Maria recounted how their families had immigrated to the US and Mario’s father had started carving this house out of the cliff. It was carved from the living stone. No mortar, no seams; just one piece of stone, a sculpture of a house. They operated a quarry that Mario still ran. Maria’s father had come to the states and found work with Mario’s father. The two had met. The rest was history.

As she and her husband talked, I stared at the beautiful paintings in the flickering lamp light. The night grew late. They invited us to stay over.

The next morning, sitting in the back of Mario’s old pickup truck, my friend and I bounced as we pulled out of the mansion’s rocky driveway. We were headed up the canyon to the side of their house. Jolting back and forth I marveled and the large stone house buried deep with in the shadow of the cliff that surrounded it. Over the decades they had removed an impressive amount of stone. The sheer cliff rose for hundreds of feet. You could clearly see where Mario’s father and his brothers had started chiseling inward. They had removed the raw stone leaving their sculptured house.

The mountains pressed in around us. We drove under a high natural archway of stone. Vines dangled down. There were many strange rock formations. The trees were dense. Here and there we spied cracks and openings in the rocks; possible caves beckoning me to come explore.

Blue Boys

Dream Info: Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Realism Intensity: 4 (out of 10)
Content: PG

I sat watching the sunrise over the towering desert mountains. My tent flaps slapped in the brisk wind. It was a beautiful morning.

As the others crawled out of their tents I reflected on our trip. This was the fifth day we had been on the planet. We had been dropped off near a large city to the east. There were tall, empty skyscrapers battered by years of neglect. One had a jagged hole in its middle looking as though something long ago had struck it.

Our scans had shown no sentient life. Whoever had built these cities had vanished long ago. The cities had sat silent for centuries.

Our small group of five had spent several days exploring the city. We took pictures, samples, and the frequent holographic video. We had then moved west into the dry wilderness gathering general flora and fauna until we circled back to the city for pick up.

I yawned and got up. We broke camp and hiked into a mountain valley. There were ruined wood buildings throughout the basin; these buildings were relatively new and mostly still standing. I led the group up the side of the basin to a series of extensive tunnels and rooms carved into the solid rock. There was no electricity; but bulbs were still intact in the sockets.

Exiting the tunnels I came face to face with a small child. I gasped. It wasn’t a child at all. It was small, like a five year old. Its head was a little too large, like a new infant’s, but its body was well developed; strong muscles, and definitely female. It jumped incredibly fast from me. Upon its face was the most curious look; not of fear, but of embarrassment.

With a bit of work, I convinced the girl we were friendly. By the afternoon she was walking among us. She was quite playful, very much like a small child. Yet a sense of cautious understanding, wisdom perhaps, never left her demeanor.

By nightfall she left. The next two days, as we headed back to the city, we never saw her.

On the eve or our departure we made camp at our pick up spot, on a hill near the heart of the city. As the sun set, our inquisitive friend appeared again. We cooked dinner and shared it with her. She loved it. A sudden bolt of realization hit me as she jabbered away. I had recognized a few words. No, that wasn’t possible. But, wait, yes, I recognized another. I looked up and told the group that she was speaking a mutated version of Latin. That made no sense. We were on a new planet, discovered a few years ago, and yet somehow the native dialect was Latin, a language dead hundreds of years on earth.

- 2 -

Excitedly I hugged the girl, and started speaking slowly in Italian. I was stunned at how quickly a sudden look of realization crossed her face. She too recognized a few of my words. We would be able to communicate given enough time. She excitedly hugged me back.

Several people grabbed note books. Two of us sat with the girl and spoke; he in Spanish, me in Italian. The rest took notes. We were filled with energy.

Shortly into our session, a low hum came to my attention. I looked up at the skyscrapers. There were lights on in the tallest tower. My jaw dropped. More lights moved around the jagged hole: dull red triangles moving towards the center. The sequence repeated over and over.

Our girlfriend jumped up and started jabbering anxiously. I distractedly listened as we rushed about setting up cameras, filming and taking pictures.

One word of Latin penetrated my excitement. My mind grasped it, thrust it into my consciousness. She had said: Danger. I turned but our girlfriend was already gone.

“Whoa, hold up guys. Where did she go?”

No one knew.

Someone pointed excitedly. I looked. There was a dark shape moving into the hole to dock. I could only see its outline. It was an air or space craft of some sort. A sinking sensation gripped my stomach.

“I think we need to hide,” I said.

“What, why?” came the response.

I turned to face my friends and explain as several small natives jump into the middle of our group. They shouted what was obviously a warning and aimed at us what could only be weapons. They were covered head to foot in a suit glowing dull blue. I could make out no facial features.

We all stood stunned for a second, then one of my group dove for his tent. A blue boy sprung nimbly to him and shocked him with the weapon. He convulsed and collapsed on the ground. They were all shouting at us and gesturing. I numbly knelt down and put my hands on my head.

- 3 -

They too were speaking Latin.

High in that tall skyscraper were a series of cells. We walked down a black metal hallway. One by one they separated us into the holding cells; their doors whooshed shut. They were clear, like glass. I was the last. Given a shove, I tripped into the cell. My door shut.

I looked around. There were large windows looking out over the city. I was thankful to at least have a view. There was a large TV blaring noise; a large recliner, a little refrigerator, and two beds.

I stood up and was greeted by a friendly wave from a native in the recliner watching TV. I cautiously backed over to my bed.


Over the next day we got a rough form of communication going. My cellmate had been imprisoned for several months. Oh, and there were these odd red sensors on the ground that I learned the hard way not to cross. He had his half of the room I had mine. I crossed over to talk to him one morning and was met by the prompt appearance of two blue boys who shouted and then shocked me. I awoke hours later in incredible pain.

Hovering In Egypt

Dream Info: Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Realism Intensity: 4 (out of 10)
Content: G

I stood in a deep courtyard, the building’s walls towering above me. The sun bounced down and the floor was brightly lit. There was a small ornate pond in one corner and some palm trees. Several lounges were out, but currently vacant. I was alone in the courtyard except for one man. In the warmth of midday, in the quiet of the courtyard, he stood with back to me. He spread his arms and slowly fell backwards. I flinched as he smacked the ground. Only, he didn’t hit. There was no noise, no impact. He suddenly stopped falling inches above the ground. I gasped, realizing he was floating. He leaned up, as if reclining on one of the lounges now, and moved his arms. He spun to face me.

“I did not know you were present,” the man stated in a thick Arabic accent.

We introduced ourselves. Through a brief conversation, we became friends. He said he would quickly teach me the art of hovering, a long and closely guarded Egyptian secret. It would aide me in my travel around the world. But I must teach no one.

I learned. It was quite easy. Hovering depending completely upon your faith: doubt not, fear not. Just let yourself float. After the man had left, I climbed upon a small tool shed roofed with red tiles, in a cornet of the courtyard. I figured I’d leap on into my practicing. I ran and jumped off the shed. I panicked momentarily, then remembered all it took was faith. No special muscles, no years of practice, just simple, true belief that you would hover. I leaned back and hit the ground. I was hovering, but my lapse of faith had left me with too little time to focus and stop my fall. My tailbone hurt, but sure enough, I was four inches above the ground gently spinning.

I grabbed my backpack and ran out the door of the hostel. I jumped down the stairs, leaned back, and never hit the ground. I just slipped forward, several inches above the ground, and shot off towards the train station.

As I toured Egypt I learned the art of controlling speed with hand and arm positions. I zipped through crowds, floated lazily through museums, and my legs never got tired. My abs were another story. Keeping my torso up, in a sitting or reclining position was an incredible work out, especially with my heavy backpack on.

No one asked any questions. No one even seemed to notice that I was moving along, sitting down, without walking. And slowly I started noticing more and more people like me: hovering through the crowds with head at waist level. Gradually I learned to hover higher and higher. When focusing, and not too physically tired, I could hover a foot and a half above the ground.

Several times, while in a museum, or along a road, I had my backpack stolen. I would be zipping along one moment with forty pounds on my back, and the next it would be gone. I went out and bought a new, cheap, backpack, but after this happened two more times I was out of money. I was also very frustrated. A cute, young, tour guide noted my sudden plight the third time I lost my bag in some pharaoh’s tomb and pulled me aside. She said that by hovering certain types of thieves would target me. Hovering opened me to a new realm: a realm that few openly discussed and fewer honestly believed. These thieves had powers to, say, remove objects from my back, without even being present. I gathered she was hinting at magic of sorts and though I felt uncomfortable with the notion, was I not the one that was touring Egypt by hovering on my rear?

She continued: Not far from where we were there was another tomb. It was closed to the public. In its deepest tunnel there was an old door. I needed to go through that door.

I did so. As I hovered down the narrow, dank tunnel, a light appeared in the distance ahead of me. It grew brighter and I sped forward. Suddenly the tunnel widened. Other tunnels merged with mine. I was no longer alone; several other people hovered along my tunnel. And ahead, carved out of the stone was a vast series of pillars and arches. Behind them, a vast sand field in the sunlight. But I was far underground…

People hovered all around the field. As I exited the cliff face, blinded by the strange sun, I saw hundreds of them. Beautiful buildings stabbed into the impossible blue sky. And there was the keenest sensation in the air. I knew that I was no longer in Egypt anymore.

Then I woke up.