Dreams: Gratitude by swampmessiah published on 2013/07/31 23:24:05 +0000 My latest exploration into digital publishing is collection of dreams put together as HTML, for it's interactive and multi-media possibilities. It can be found at: http://dreamlog.businesscatalyst.com/ 245-Gratitude—At that time my younger child was named Elana. Dick, or Richard, was my step-father. My younger daughter wanted a ride on the River Cruiser. Her grandpa is willing to take her. Only four people are allowed on—I decide to go, but two people beat me to the gate. The rules suddenly change and anyone who wants to board can. It’s like a mob comes rushing in…Just as the boat is about to shove off I find we’re in a huge station wagon, one of those Brady Bunch cars of the 1970s, on a road parallel to the river. It seems everyone is on the boat but us. Dick and Elana are in the seat in front of me. The other people in the car are strangers—they had to fill it up like a cross country coach or something. It’s very uncomfortable…There is an extremely short woman in the driver’s seat, gray haired and rustically jovial, turned backward and facing us. She’s doing a good tour guide rap about the history of the river and of the boats that have traveled up and down it for the past two hundred years. We see the River Cruiser and all wave. But I’m thinking about how unfair this is, Elana really wanted to ride on the boat—the car will meet them, I suppose, at an island a few miles down river and, I hope, she’ll get to ride back…A faint concussive sound in the distance. Dick says it’s the gas tank. I say no way. But as we come back into view of the river we see the boat is all in flames. It seems everyone is still in their seat…Then we’re on a boat of our own, helping people out of the river. It seems they were either trapped in their seats and in flames or unscathed except for the dip in the Mississippi. As each person climbs aboard, pretty much without our help, I look from face to face in search of gratitude.