It was all just a dream.
There was a sort of introduction to the dream, a sexual invocation of sorts. I stood above a friend of mine who lay prone, and felt up her skirt. Her sex was smooth and exposed, and ready for my fingers. I fondled her like this for several minutes, she laying still while my fingers explored her folds.
This didn’t last long, and afterwards I stood at the top of a hiking trail somewhere out West, most likely along the Colorado/Utah border. I needed a place to stay for the night – I was without a bed – and noticed a thick grouping of tall pine trees further down the trail, and thought I would sleep under their canopy. It was a cool night, with a slight rain or snow, and I thought I would be safe and comfortable under the trees.
I began my way down the trail. It was a steep incline, like the bottom shelf of rock before entering a canyon’s basin. The steep walls of the hill was built over with graves; I was walking through a cemetery, with tombs jutting out from the hillside from a variety of angles and directions. Running throughout was a pack of wolves, wild animals. It was like entering a multi-dimensional Maze, negotiating the hill, tombs, and wolves. I used the grave stones for handholds and footfalls, and picked my way towards the bottom, all the while keeping constant track of the wolves.
I walked with confidence. I was wary of the wolves, but felt I had no reason to be scared.
The wolves approached me but without menace. They walked with the same confidence, in some way sharing in my wariness. I sensed their power, but felt I shared among them. For that time we walked in balance.
Somehow, I was observed by the woman I just fingered; she watched me from the top of the hill as I made my way through the cemetery. She asked me where I was going.
I responded by telling her of my plans, that I planned to sleep in the grove down in the basin.
She warned me against this, saying the wolves left me alone now, though there were no guarantees while sleeping.
I took her advice.
I began my ascent. The wolves were gone, and now rather than climbing up through the tombs, I walked up a steep suburban landscape. I climbed up a ledge built out of kitchen cabinets and countertops. During my ascent, the climb seemed much steeper. I struggled up, using my hands to pull myself up the steep terrain.
I knew she was right, and that I couldn’t stay down in the bottom.