Of Caterpillars and of Lions

I am at the old house. Small red and black caterpillars with red and black spikes protruding from their soft, spongy, bodies, looking for all The Dreaming like gothic wristbands, are everywhere, in the furniture, the curtains, the carpets and the clothes. The texture of their bodies, smooth and fuzzy like the leaves of ferns, contrasts with the glint and gleam of the metallic spikes stemming from their backs. They disgust and disturb me, causing my skin to crawl.

Suddenly Rafiki, the shaman baboon from the movie The Lion King appears in my dream. I myself am no longer human, but am Simba and Nala emerges from The Dreaming as well. We are now in the blue bathroom of the old house, and I reject Rafiki’s advice, and stubbornly refusing to explain the way I feel to Nala. Now we are climbing the cliff face from which Mufasa fell, and when I reach the top I am now Nala. There is a tree to the right of me and Rafiki joins me, squatting on a rock to my left of me. I lay on my back as I wait for Simba’s mane to appear over the top of the edge of the cliff like the sun. It does, and thus I depart from The Dreaming.