Sol's Dream Galleries

In Hannah's dream, the noisy cafe is bustling, most tables full of the busy lunch time crowd. Alone, she has an hour, but no one sees her, nor is her table even cleared yet. At another table, everyone has the same face as their waitress. They're all smiling the same and talking in unison. Hannah grows impatient as a few more plates of steaming food go by. Then, she suddenly sees her supervisor who walks up to her. Hannah's boss leans closer and whispers, "See, my eyes, they're old! That's why I'm fixing them soon." Hannah only nods, unable to speak or move now, and there is very little break time remaining.

The rarest of dreams, all things shimmer from their own inner light, stain-glass colors alive and pulsing, you as well glowing yet awake, aware of each moment as if it's always been so bright, as if you're the dream, real-time by celestial design.

In Harlan's tropical dream, birds slither thru the brush, and splayed snakes fly from tree limb to limb, neither prescient laws of nature nor physics apply as nothing looks right or makes sense, but Harlan is only the faceless witness, an extra on the dream sideline, a low shadow with no speaking parts, like at work, and the director is always his overbearing boss. 

In Theo's dream, his car is self-propelled, self-navigated, he's running late and grateful just to hold the wheel, as heavy fog engulfs all lanes in both directions, no one minds since routes are programmed, all move steadily thru their own dreams, Theo can't understand, but feels okay going to his work.