For the past week, I’ve been haunted by a recent dream of mine. And it’s not because Brenden Fraser found his way into it. It’s because, somehow, my unconscious incorporated literary theory and threw me a curve ball. It went something like this:
The world has survived some kind of apocalypse, and I am on the run from something. It is sinister and it stalks me from one of my childhood homes. My only means of escape is an old suburban. An old, junker suburban with no air-conditioner and bad shocks. It is my fortress.
I climb inside and drive fast and to no specific destination. Just knowing that I need distance, because distance is my only ally. My enemy is ambiguous, I don’t know its strengths or weaknesses.
Finally, I stop at an old diner. Yes, my companion is Brenden Fraser, but it isn’t really him–otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have bothered saving him later. Just sayin’.
Anyway, after I eat some kind of food (the dream didn’t specify anything, but even my dream self has good taste in food, so it had to have been excellent) I realize I have a problem. Because I see another me, another Brenden, another just about everyone else I’ve ever known in my life.
I’m sure you’ve already guessed, but these Other mes and other yous were the enemy. I’m still not sure what their deal was. But they were evil, zombielike, and yet perfect representations of their doubles in every way.
My “pal” and I fight them off, climb into the suburban, and speed away. But they plague us everywhere, trying to kill us. I manage to keep warding them off, although my “pal” keeps breaking down and sobbing at various and inopportune times.
That’s about the extent of it. But Doubles and Others in one? Whew. I don’t even want to analyze that dream…