Wings and Things

(December 5, 2005)

Two nights ago, I dreamed of magic. I had feathered wings that I didn't really need - at one point, I shrugged them off and flew just the same - but which mattered in some symbolic way, and I was something of substance in a world of meaninglessness. I floated up to the top of my fridge just to prove that I could, and found Eggo waffles inexplicably stored there; when I held my hand out to one, it leapt into it as if attracted by a magnet, and I banished it back to its starting point just as easily. There were other feats as well, less ridiculous and more worthy of notice, but I cannot remember them; the most important thing was the feeling of raw power, of potential energy made real by force of will. I approached a composite being who was very dear to me and whispered words of affection as he gaped in fear at my feet hovering above the floor and the fire blazing in my eyes. 'I need some time to think about this...' he murmured, backing away.

I awoke to the sight of a slightly amused yet solemnly expectant figure sitting directly in front of me, wrapped in my fluffy winter coat. I felt a pressing need to explain myself, my purposes and reasons for being where I was, but could do nothing but smile bashfully and dig myself a bit deeper into the blankets. After a very long moment, the figure faded out, leaving my computer chair in its place. There was no further transition into consciousness - I just watched it leave and then got up, reflecting on what the message might have meant.

What should I be doing? If my current path is too frivolous, where should I be going? If that wasn't Coyote - and I don't think it was, unless he's changing his demeanour - who else is watching?