Trompé Setsuled (setsuled) wrote,
Trompé Setsuled

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Cryptess in San Diego

Ah! Nothing like beginning the day with a can of cherry coke!

Last night, I dreamt that Cryptess was coming to visit San Diego, and she instructed me to meet her at precisely four thirty in the afternoon at a very specific Starbucks downtown.

So I wandered about downtown for a bit (I was early), when I received a very vague voice mail from her, telling me to go to my aunt’s house, which I did.

Cryptess wasn’t there, and by now it was well past 4:30, and I began to worry if I’d gotten the message wrong.

So I went to wander around again downtown. I passed beneath some gold coloured awnings that I’d seen in another dream, and I walked on a road paved with pizza that I’d seen in yet another dream.

Finally, fed up with the confusion, I walked down the fire escape to the basement level of an apartment building. I stepped into a metal, well-carpeted, airlock/waiting room, and waited. At last, a vague, dog-faced man (miniature schnauzer) with an eye-patch and in a tuxedo, grudgingly let me it.

Behind a desk that towered above me was Cryptess. Her smugly smiling little face was just barely visible over the edge of the desk.

She and the dog man discussed some official matters before he finally left, and she at last turned her attention to me.

It seemed utterly natural to me that she would be speaking with me only on completely official terms. When she refused to address the voice mail that she had left me from practically another reality, I grew angry.

“Why do you have to leave your other self behind for this job?!” I demanded, “Why must your heart be kept for other hours while you turn into a machine here?!”

Cryptess did not respond. Instead, she slowly vanished, fading away like sugar into water.

I ran outside, and somehow just knew that she had become one with all of the stoplights, in order to perform her duty.

As my gaze searched about in frustration, one of the red “don’t walk” hands leapt off of its sign to quiver nervously beside me.

I shouted for Cryptess to leave these machines, but she never responded.

I know, I know. No more Annotated Alice before bedtime for me, right?:) Hardly, I say! I love that thing too much . . .
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