A Wolf Among Wolves

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.


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