Dream Journal #1

Three nights ago, I dreamed an episode of Firefly. Wash was alive, but he and Zoey were having marriage troubles — miscommunication, or really, an overwhelming lack of communication. There was some kind of distance between them.

I was in this dream, as a Siberian tiger for some reason. Kind of like the daemons in The Golden Compass. Anyway, Zoey and I went up to the “attic” of the ship. (Yeah, I don’t know why this ship had an attic. Dramatic affect.) We were just coming up the ladder when, looking over Zoey’s shoulder, I cried out and pointed— a body was hanging from the ceiling.

Apparently it was Wash’s anorexic ex-girlfriend, whom he hadn’t seen since long before he met Zoey. Apparently she’d hung herself in the attic, and no one had gone up there until now. What troubled me, though, was that the body had been spinning when we’d found it. Like someone had been up there.

This plothole was never resolved, because then the ship had to flee from some other ship (Reavers? Klingons?) and the dream basically became a disembodied me surfing through a beautiful sea of stars and nebulas, following the ship.

Also there was a humpback whale