In the dream I found myself in an unknown park in Brooklyn. - TopicsExpress

In the dream I found myself in an unknown park in Brooklyn. After wandering lost for some time I came upon a group of raggedy, mendicant musicians whom I eventually recognized as bandmates, whereupon I suddenly recalled that I was on tour with these kind souls and we were were late for the show. Among the small gathering I discovered my old friend, guitarist Pat Hargon, whom I have not seen in many years. Unlike the others he was well dressed and I was delighted to see him enjoying such prosperity. He informed me that the group was searching for a way out of the park, as the the venue was near the exit, and encouraged me to join in, so I did. Pat and I followed the musicians as they traversed the maze of wide elegant pathways of the park. At one point we passed an ancient monolithic mausoleum; stately, cold and white with two wildly oversized pillars framing a broad darkened doorway. There was a hush among the crowd as we passed, everyone wondering who was interred inside. Was it Jimi Hendrix? Janis Joplin? Townes Van Zandt? Eventually we found our way out of the maze of walkways and arrived at the grand retro 60s style venue and we were escorted to the spacious green room. There everyone relaxed and engaged in lively, pleasant conversation. The easygoing calm was suddenly broken when the musician sitting opposite me inexplicably tumbled from his chair, plopping on the floor, as if impelled by some invisible force. He gathered his wits, then stood, nervously laughing, brushing off his clothes and when we inquired what had caused him to fall he told us not to worry, that he had been pushed from the chair by Muslets, which everyone understood to be tiny invisible Muslim spirits. He explained this happened to him often and was a sort of practical joke between he and the spirits, and that such pranks were usually intended to be reminders to him to not become too enamored with his successes. Message received. he averred, smiling as he returned to his seat. There was a moment of quiet, then another musician confessed that the same thing happened to him, only it was Christlets who were the pranksters. With that countless permutations of two words, Muslets and Christlets then materialized in the air like genies from an army of bottles, taking form in various fonts and sizes and began to swirl and blend like innumerable smoke trails in a darkened room. Soon thereafter I awoke, feeling very much as though these two new words had been birthed, delivered to the world via this dream, and as such am now reporting that to you.