I'm dreaming. Weird dusky light. High fences shadow our back yard.

A creature climbs down the hill toward me. What is it? I can't see! It runs by me, up the side alley, and squeezes through a cat door. Barely. It's a gigantic raccoon!

The shock runs through me. Changes me. I start to levitate, glide sinuously round the yard.

Sinuously? Oh. I've become a flying snake!

I woke. I wrote. I racked my brain. Night, weird light, raccoon, flying snake. What'd it mean? If those were symbols, they lost me.

A FEW NIGHTS LATER

A few nights later, we have a total lunar eclipse. I go out into our back yard. Weird dusky light. The light in my dream!

Then my hosuemate Vito, up on the roof, yells "God! Look at that huge raccoon!"

But in the lunar gloom I see only a shadow as fluid as a snake gliding around our yard.

What'd I learn from my dream? That dream-interpretation has to change. Precognition is real. Not every dreambeast is a symbol! Some prowl the real dark.

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