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, engaged in an incestuous 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 her only to realize it’s not working. Feeling distressed, I continue through the mall, encountering strangers along the way.

These strangers 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 underdeveloped 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 broken state of my phone.

5. I’m 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. While pressing buttons, he tells me the killer has struck again, nearby to where we’re standing. I’m unbearably frightened because it occurs to me this young man might himself be the killer, which is a horrifying thought, and I wake up as a result, five minutes before my alarm goes off.


9 thoughts on “She Said her Name Was Hecate

  1. You capture mall dreams very well. On a mission, going here and there, not really knowing why but it’s urgent and lots of weirdos are getting in your way. There’s a lot to psychoanalyze for our hero here.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, Hetty. This was an actual dream with some very minor tweaks, and I’m thankful for that because, like I mentioned to Bila, I was preparing to write a dream sequence the next day. It’s just so darn convenient when you can work while sleeping!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Writing dreams is tricky. On the one hand you (general you) don’t want to reproduce them in the possibly mistaken belief that other people find them as fascinating as you do, but at the same time you have to resist making them a coherent story.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. I literally had never heard of MarksAndSpencer (.com) until three days ago when my boss informs my team that we need to quickly figure out how to support UK & Spanish addresses in our application — otherwise we’ll lose them as a client. On Apollo’s knees I swear.
    And now this? What the hell is a Marks & Spencers? (Don’t bother answering, I really don’t want to know.)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi, Anony, M&S must’ve recently purchased an advertising spot within the collective unconscious as part of their new campaign to broadcast on all bandwidths because there are none around these parts, yet there its storefront was, gleaming garishly inside my head!

      Liked by 1 person

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