She Said her Name Was Hecate

Crazy Dream!! I find myself in a mall with an elderly woman who looks like Mom but, she’s my aunt, although I don’t have any aunts in real life. We’re on a weekend getaway, perhaps engaged in a tryst as there’s a strong sexual undertone, including some touching and even kissing at opportune moments. While strolling through the corridors we see a liquor store and there we buy a large bottle of claret. Somewhere farther along we come to a manmade beach complete with an artificial lagoon/wave pool. Families are floating on inflatable donut cushions in chlorinated water that smells vaguely like semen. There’s a simulated sun in a fake sky but we can’t stay because it occurs to us that it’s getting late and we need to get a bunch of nonspecific, last-minute supplies for the long trip back home (still not sure what city we’re in). The search for stores selling what we need is futile, as we can’t seem to figure out what we’re after, partly because we keep interrupting our thought processes with feverish bouts of heavy petting. Inexplicably, we become separated despite our physical intimacy, so I take out my phone to call my aunt only to realize it’s not working. Feeling distressed, I continue through the mall, growing increasingly upset and as I go, random people, some more helpful than others, are met.

These random people are as follows (in order of appearance): 

1. Another elderly woman who holds some position of importance at Marks and Spencer calls out to me as I wander by her while she’s creating an interactive art installation in the mall corridor. Surrounding her are small glass structures of varying geometries: pyramids; cubes etc. While doing what she’s doing, she tries to calm me down with a few wryly delivered words of wisdom. I don’t remember the exact details of what she said, just the mentor-protege feeling it evoked.  

2. A longhaired guy, scraggly in appearance comes up to me and says he saw “my public shows of affection” toward my aunt and that he did the same with her at some earlier point. He tells me it’s not weird in any way and I shouldn’t feel ashamed. Curiously, I don’t feel any shame until he mentions it, at which time I become terribly embarrassed.

3. A twenty-something woman bumps into me and politely apologizes before saying her name is Hecate and that she works as a clerk in one of the stores (Marks and Spencer?). She’s visibly tired yet friendly in a shy way and I’m taken by her soulful eyes. I immediately find her attractive both physically and emotionally and I’m overcome by the desire to pursue a relationship with her but she tells me she’s only on break and must return to her job. 

4. A young woman of ambiguous age rushes up to me, points to her undeveloped breasts (just little bumps) and asks if I want them in exchange for something spicy. Feeling strangely compelled to reciprocate, I respond in the affirmative. My urgent concerns about the disappearance of my aunt suddenly fade in importance and I follow this minx through many back rooms and winding passageways until we come to an old telephone booth. I’m told to wait inside the booth for her but somehow I can tell she’s not coming back, so I find my way out into the mall again feeling much more anxious. At this point, I’m getting frantic over the state of my phone, still frozen on some music app that’s trying to play Higher Love by Steve Winwood.

5. While wandering through the desolate mall (whole sections are now closed down), I begin feeling inconsolably distraught when suddenly a handsome young man of athletic build approaches me from the shadows. Something about his demeanor tells me he means well but I’m rattled by his talk of a serial killer. The chilling nature of his chit-chat reignites a panicked frustration with my phone, so he offers to fix it for me, swiping up and pressing buttons until he finds a social media site trending with news of the killer who’s apparently just struck again, nearby to where we’re standing. I’m unbearably frightened at this point because it occurs to me this young man might actually be the killer, which is a horrifying thought and I wake up as a result, about five minutes before my alarm goes off.