I knew some type of precipitation was going to roll in this weekend, but I expected the usual failed promises from the meteorologists. Instead, I received the opposite, with a vigorous storm rolling over everyone’s exposed wood dash convertibles and unsealed wicker furniture.
Pareidolia had me seeing canine imagery in the quickly moving clouds this time instead of angels. [Sunchaser], contrary to common myth, likes to “politely invite” me to his shenanigans. He’ll send canines to me in one way or another to let me know he will be calling for me to join his pack within a day or two. The multitude of canines in the clouds, gradually becoming more and more misshapen and distorted, meant to be ready once the sun sets.
He did not call until shortly before my desired bed time. As the temperature dropped, the winds increased. Gusts sounded like barking and the trees’ whistling rose as fell with the local dogs suddenly crying out. I was nearly overcome with a sudden smothering lethargy and thought it best that I go to bed immediately. As I prepared, I began to speak his name then involuntarily fell as something clutched my mind, howling to match the roaring outside. Continue reading “Dream Journal: 2017-05-07.01”