Journal

Paris In Flames

paris in flames
“apocalyptia and croissants – breakfast of champions”

I had the weirdest dream last night.

I dreamt I went to Paris (I’ve never been), and it was some sort of quasi family holiday, but we were all going at different intervals. For some reason, I was the first one to leave, and that I would meet my sister somewhere in Paris. However, during the flight there, I’d forgotten, when and where I was supposed to meet my sister, and I quite literally panicked on the plane.

Soon enough the plane landed, and I was shuffled out of the airport. Apparently I was simply walking around the streets of some suburban looking place, but in the horizon, I could always seen the Eiffel Tower. Light was fading fast, and for some odd reason, I knew I had to find shelter before it got dark (a very recurring theme in survival horror). Now, as it slowly turned to dusk, there was a cold wind blowing that constantly got windier and windier. This was probably the most iconic moment in my dream, as I had never felt a physical sensation quite as strongly as in this dream.

There were a few time skips here and there, but somehow, I found myself in a little cottage of sorts to spend the night. There were caretakers in the cottage, and they were making some sort of casseroled whole chicken and beef stew (in separate pots). I was waiting longingly for my food, when suddenly, I almost remembered that I had to meet my sister somewhere (remember at this time, I’d actually “forgotten” when and where I was supposed to meet her.

So now, time was running out, and I found a fix-geared bicycle of sorts, and I was cycling all over this Parisian neighbourhood, desperately looking for my sister, or rather, cycling as fast as I could to get to a predetermined place that I seemed to know by instinct, and wasn’t part of my conscious thought.

Policemen were chasing me, and angry suburban dwellers were shouting at me. And then the handlebars of my bicycle suddenly became some sort of elastic band, and I could steer my bicycle by also stretching the handlebars toward me. Weird, I know.

And then, before I knew it, there my sister was, and we were reunited. We made our way back to the cottage, and there my parents were, having just gotten of their flight, and we were about to enjoy a wonderful casserole meal when my alarm rang.

It was a rather vivid dream, and for some reason, one of the best things I’ve dreamt about in awhile.

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