Saturday, October 27, 2012

An Illustrated Dream (w/aid from Google)

So we had gone out for the day and were on the way back to the TARDIS when we found a crowd outside the TARDIS. They couldn't move but otherwise looked normal. So we went into the museum and found tons of little kids running around an empty room.
But there was a Weeping Angels inside, sculptured of black metal or rock, maybe granite. It reclined on a rocky base, sitting like Adam in Michelangelo's ceiling. (almost exactly like this, actually)
There were small chains nearby, probably used to cordon off the statue, and I used them to chain the Angel as best I could. I set two of the elementary-aged kids to watch the sculpture nonetheless, but went off with some friends to search the rest of the building for Angels. "And beware the cherubs too!" I told them. My best friend and I went to the basement, equipped with two flashlights.
The place was massive--at least the size of a church, and had shelves and rows upon rows of statues, like some workshop or collector's studio. I saw another Angel, like the one upstairs, and asked my friend "Will you be alright if I go to get the others?" But then I saw people--a mother and two middle-school daughters, moving around the sculptures, and I knew they were Angels, in the sense that Amy might have become one in Flesh and Stone if the Doctor had not saved her. 
Something touched my hand, and I became an Angel.
My mouth was full of dust, and I coughed and coughed, trying to get rid of that dry taste. I screamed to the others, trying to warn them, make them run. But they touched me instead, and I and the other angels were disabled, like zombies by Nerf swords in HvZ.
The next thing I knew, I was human, sitting on a bench, with River hugging me tight and Eleven looking down. 
"Can I have a sonic screwdriver next time? Because it was not supposed to work like that, I know better."  My heart was going thumpity-thumpity-thump, as if I'd run a marathon, and I started babbling. "There's an Angel upstairs, I trained to chain it up but could someone just make sure it's taken care of?" 
And he looked down at me with such an odd expression, something like
Someone else--a barrister or solicitor or lawyer or someone like that---was taking me to hear a will read.

We walked out past rows of columns, dark from heavy rain. "After Mother died--well, after he told me that she died
some 2 years afterwards.) 
"He would look at me like I was the only precious thing he had left in the world."
(yes, I was Eleven and River's daughter. It was so Mary Sue but so fun)
Then time had twisted again, and we were at a theatre in Wellington, New Zealand for the premier of The Fellowship of the Ring;  River, Eleven and I. But this was early days, very early, perhaps my first adventure with them.
Our seats were in the front row, with our jackets reserving them. Mine was of some sort of plaid--it was all very smart-looking, and I wish I could remember what I was wearing, because it looked so good on me. 
When we were climbing out later, River said to me "You seem to know him."
"Did you say you seem to know him, or that I seem to know him?" I asked. "In a dream, you can know a person better than your best friend, and when you finally meet--"

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