Good Faith


Last night I dreamed that I was laying out my mother's body. She was tiny and frail and dead. I lay her out naked on a round bed. I washed her body and removed the hearing aids from her ears (did you know they can explode during cremation.) I looked deep inside her ear canal and  saw them and pulled them out.

Later I wandered the house. It was old, dilapidated, abandoned, dusty, but oddly sterile.

My bed was in a room full of water, off the edge of my bed you could see into the depths of the water and it was foul. There was dirt and dead dogs, and the sand at the bottom was not working.

When clean and dry the sand would swallow up anything that fell into it and strip it back to basic components. It was suppose to be white-hot and dry like beach sand. But here it was wet and marshy. It was sad, though not disgusting.

I found the kitchen, abandoned, etc... and there were jars there full of the ground powders and minerals of magic. One jar had the silhouette of a hand and the words Faith or Good Faith.
photo by Carly & Art on Flickr

I don't know how it worked, but it was magic. There were ingredients in the cupboards for more potions. It was earth magic, made of dust.

I started dreaming that this was the plot of a great novel and suggested that someone write it. Then the suggestion came back that it was mine to write and I woke up.

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