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Around June 15, 2015: A young version of my mom showed up making the flapping half fisted gesture she usually makes when she is trying to get a point across. She said, “He’s going to leave her (here?) in September.”
Intent: What, if anything, of importance will occur near the end of September?
Night of June 27/28: I’m stopped on the highway in a town called Holdfast. There are country stores along the highway. I am out of my vehicle standing in the middle of the highway, arms spread, pointing in both directions. I ask a man in a brown jacket, “In what direction should I be going?” His answer is, “North”.
Night of June 28/29: Someone is manipulating the Facebook Pet Rescue game while I am playing it. // A group of women are meeting to determine who is going to arrange the funeral. // I receive a letter from the power company indicating that they can’t provide me with a thermostat for $50.00. // My oldest son is walking away from our cottage carrying the last sheet of drywall. // I am awakening from a deep rash.
Night of July 18/19, 2015: I found myself trying to escape an ever changing undulating spongy landscape of park and city center buildings where walking and even crawling was nearly impossible. Occasionally I would see a part of the landscape that looked solid and would try to move in that direction. The solidness didn’t last long. In the peripheral was a pointy nosed villain something like Gru from the movie Despicable Me, who was responsible for the chaos.
Intent: What, if anything, of importance will occur near the end of September?
Night of June 27/28: I’m stopped on the highway in a town called Holdfast. There are country stores along the highway. I am out of my vehicle standing in the middle of the highway, arms spread, pointing in both directions. I ask a man in a brown jacket, “In what direction should I be going?” His answer is, “North”.
Night of June 28/29: Someone is manipulating the Facebook Pet Rescue game while I am playing it. // A group of women are meeting to determine who is going to arrange the funeral. // I receive a letter from the power company indicating that they can’t provide me with a thermostat for $50.00. // My oldest son is walking away from our cottage carrying the last sheet of drywall. // I am awakening from a deep rash.
Night of July 18/19, 2015: I found myself trying to escape an ever changing undulating spongy landscape of park and city center buildings where walking and even crawling was nearly impossible. Occasionally I would see a part of the landscape that looked solid and would try to move in that direction. The solidness didn’t last long. In the peripheral was a pointy nosed villain something like Gru from the movie Despicable Me, who was responsible for the chaos.