neighborhood airstream park

2020-08-23

I was at my grandfather’s house again. He wasn’t around which was weird. My dad and my brothers and I were crashing there. We spent the night and worried about where my grandfather was because he doesn’t go places. The house was in a weird unclean state too.

Grandpa showed up the next morning and was super cagey about where he had been. I pointed out some unhygienic parts of the house that were unsafe to live in and he kind of brushed it off.

I went outside for a walk in the woods and came across the concrete foundation and basement of a building that had burned down or simply fallen down long ago. I went down the stairs to see what was down there. At the bottom of the stairs, I heard a noise up above. I looked up and a kid with thick long wavy red hair and a wild grin was at the top of the stairs. He flicked some cans and cups down at me. They were full of a rancid, rank liquid that splashed all over me when they hit.

He laughed and turned to run, and I leaped and flew up the stairwell, grabbed him by the shirt once I reached the top, and then kept flying up into the air dozens of feet. Then we started to fall, and we hit the ground hard, me on top and him beneath me. He gasped and groaned, and I laid my hands on him and moved his broken ribs back into place and mended them.

I got up to walk away and he jumped back up and charged me, yelling, What are you! Right before he lowered his shoulder into me, I dropped into a stance and became as solid as steel. He bounced off me and tumbled to the ground.

I looked around and wondered to myself, Where even am I?

I saw an overgrown stairway built into the side of a hill that looked like it lead up to street level. I climbed up, the kid now accompanying me, and found myself in a small tight circle of small, old, beat up, garishly colored aluminum airstream trailers that it looked like people were living in.

There was a young woman sitting under an awning by her camper. She greeted us in a sing-song voice kind of dancing a little bit where she sat, and then turned back to what she was doing. What she was doing was some kind of massage and spa treatment to two people who were laying on their backs on their tables, draped with thin blankets, with stones on their eyes.

I walked through the curtain in the door of her camper, expecting it to be a place of business, a parlor of some sort, but then realized that I had just walked into her living space uninvited. I got embarrassed and exited, and apologized. My apology in turn seemed to embarrass the kid, who motioned sharply and hissed under his breath for me to stop.

tags: #grandparents #neighborhood #flying #powers

Commentary: I think that the campers might have been part of or an entrance to The Neighborhood because of their bright colors, their being so close to each other, and the weird rules and mores about entering other peoples homes. Which means that this is the second dream I’ve had recently about getting to The Neighborhood from my grandparents’ house.