Perspectives

I was in a plane/spaceship, by myself. It was dimly lit, and the interior was small but not cramped. The ship was going down. I knew this because of the pitch of the ship, but there really weren't any good windows around me. There were screens and gauges, but I was in the back of the plane. As the ride grew bumpy, I made my way back to the impact harness, which was composed of heavy beanbags in a small floral print. As I strapped in, I texted my Dad that I loved him.

I realized, just before impact, that I could be in the cockpit trying to raise the nose so as not to crash headlong into the unknown, but I didn't move. Too late, I realized. I felt the plane hit something, and then the "camera" panned out and showed a field strewn with wreckage at the base of a low mountain range. I was looking through a window, still in part of the wreckage. I could see a river in front of me, and plains of tall grey/green grass. Mountains ringed the area, and around the river bend there were low sandstone bluffs. And there was alien life. I saw strange animals that looked like a mix between a coyote, badger, and maybe some sort of lynx or rat, moving up the banks.

I climbed out of the ship and onto the ground, and got out my phone. My battery was dying. I walked around a little ways until I met the aliens. They were smaller than I was, bipedal, and they had withered grey skin and deep set black eyes.

I don't remember what happened here - I met them, but then they went away and I kept exploring? Then we met again and they took me to their elder, who I identified as some sort of shaman.

When he saw my phone, he said, "Another one who wonders." I could understand him because there were subtitles under him when he spoke. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but I understood that he would not answer me. He led me along the sandstone bluffs and through the grasses to a height. I looked down and saw my spaceship in pieces, scattered and smoldering. My phone lit up to say I was connected to wifi, and I immediately started recording video. I sent it to Stephen, because I knew he'd send it on to the right people.

The aliens (who in-dream I began to compare to Native Americans), walked with me through the landscape. I never saw where they lived, but I saw strange shapes in the sky that were not always birds. Then, at one point, I saw three planes. They were not like any planes I've ever seen - they had wings, and propellers of some sort, but their elevators physically swished like fishes' tails. They moved in a military formation over the valley, and started shooting lasers at something over the ridge. I realized it was my ship, and I took off running.

When I got to where my ship should have been, there was nothing left except for a bit of wire and some circuits buried in the sand. I was more suspicious than angry. How did such advanced technology exist alongside such a pastoral landscape?

"They come and clean up all the proof," said the Shaman. "It is the way." I looked to the distance, and all at once I could see a city a long way away, full of red and black cylinder buildings. What puzzled me even more was that, in a hazy middle distance between where we stood on the hilltop and the city, the whole world disappeared. In front of me was a desk, covered with keyboards and screens. It looked like a tidy, but crowded, workstation, like something from a government agency. It was giant compared to me, except I thought it looked normal sized.

I had a realization - this whole alien world was small, and I was small on it. The desk - the workstation was either where I was and I had shrunk, or the workstation was giant and the rest of us were normal sized. These aliens did not realize that they were small, that their whole existence fit into a crevice in the corner of a workroom. I turned around and the alien world stretched out before me, seeming huge. How could the perspective be so different?


----


The dream moved on, with me leaving the aliens on a sort of journey to the city. I rode a railroad through another miniature time, this one vaguely Germanic with candles and homemade goods. At one point I was at a garden show, and Amy Poehler and Will Arnett were showing off their wagon full of flower pots.

I did not reach the city.

Africa and (Captain) America

This dream was very intricate, and I know I won't get it all, but here goes:

I had a crew and we had an airplane, like a giant helicopter. The dream started with us getting in a helicopter and me trying to brief everyone on the mission. It was dark at a chaotic airfield. My pilot didn't really know how to fly, and I tried to help/watch and learn as he operated two sets of hand controls and a comically large brake/foot pad. The front of the helicopter was glass and sort of domed, so that the pilot and gunner sat in the bottom of the dome, and the rest of the team was on the bridge behind them.

I could see outside of myself, that we were not doing a good job. Everyone was tense, but not angry. More like bitchy - we were all getting fed up with each other in a long-term relationship sort of way. We either failed to take off, or sort of crashed back down.

I gave everyone a pep talk about doing better next time, but there was fatigue in the air.  It was raining now, and one of my crew (Jonathan A) was secretly very ill. He told me in an aside - there were a lot of quiet asides in this dream where dramatic conversations took place - and I was very worried for him. Steve Rogers was also there, and he was incredibly supportive.

Our commander - Richard Ryan the fight choreographer - gave us another chance. However as I climbed up into the belly of the plane/helicopter, I noticed that I was down a few crew members.
"Where is everyone?" I asked. My remaining crew told me they were sick or something like that. I felt my stomach drop out of me, but I tried to be brave. "Alright, I can fly it," I said.

"Really?" Asked one of my crew.
"Well, no, I'm not a pilot. But I'll figure it out." I sat down at the controls, and immediately the helicopter started bucking about in the bad weather. I did figure it out - sort of. The hand levers controlled pitch and speed, while the foot pad did something about turning. It was really complicated and I didn't know what I was doing. Still, we only banged into a couple of buildings before I finally got us above the base and in open air where I could afford to make mistakes.

But then all of a sudden we were over Germany. I don't know how we got there, and I was still not good at flying the ship. We hurled towards the ground, and I realized too late that we were just above the target we needed to destroy. It was this big barn thing with what appeared to be a giant, steep, ramp coming out of one side of the roof. Instead of blowing up this barn, I accidentally flew inside it and banged around like a toy.  We blinked out and found ourselves back at our home base. I was very confused because outside everyone was angry with us, but I thought we had done pretty well given the circumstances.

The next night, I came back to try for a third time. I felt very confident because I had found the target at last. But when I climbed into the belly of the plane, I found that the cockpit had been transformed into a series of cubicles. I couldn't get to the controls anymore. My crew was gone, except for Steve Rogers. He told me we were grounded. I told him - strongly - that I wasn't going to let it happen. Then I went to find the Commander. I told him we deserved another chance, that we had improved and I knew what to do now. The higher ups weren't willing to listen to me. I gave a big speech or something about doing a good job.

"Come with me. I might have a position for you," the Commander said, leading me away from the airfield. His secretary was with him, a beautiful lady. I was very worried he was going to try and make a pass at me, that I would get mistreated because I was a woman and I didn't know if I would say no or yes if he forced me to trade sex for the opportunity to fly again.

"You will go to Africa. Fly around the mountains at night and look for fires."
"Mountains?" I tried to explain that I wasn't much of a pilot to do something that complicated. He implied that I didn't really have a choice, but that I would get to keep my plane and that it was a good job. I felt giddy because he was on my side after all, and hadn't let me get fired.

I ran back to the ship, but my crew had left me. Except for Steve Rogers. He sat on the ladder with his pack and smiled. "I'll always have your back," he said. I was so grateful.

Now, amid all this drama, there was character drama sometimes. Someone - one of my crew members who might have been Jeremy Piven? - had asked me to marry him. I had my reservations, but it seemed like no one else was interested and so I said yes. Then I realized that I loved Steve, and he was the only one who was there for me when it mattered. So I was conflicted about what to do.

The scene cut to night in Africa. I had landed and was in a tiny room. I don't know how I got there. I had a bed and a table and the place seemed comfortable, if spare. There were noises outside and I was nervous. I was more nervous of the mosquitos - I really didn't want to get malaria. I climbed into my bed and shut the netting.

External shot of daytime rising on the plains. I woke up and made my way to a jeep. My house was surprisingly pretty, sitting alone on a blank sort of prairie. A dusty road wound in front of my driveway, and in the jeep Steve and I made our way to a big building that looked like a barracks. It turned out to be a church of sorts. The pastor was a Marine in a tan workout shirt, and the families were mostly caucasian, which I thought was odd. They must have been expats.

It was at this point someone pointed out that I was married, or engaged. Steve's shoulders visibly slumped, as though he'd been punched. I panicked because I was in the process of not being engaged specifically for him. I tried to explain it, but the service was starting. He did let me hold his hand, which somehow made it ok. The service was nice - militaristic and about duty and family. There were  children moving about, playing and passing around collection plates.

Then it got very weird. For some reason, what we had done back on that chaotic German run had messed up a timeline. Neither Steve nor I were supposed to wind up in Africa on fire patrol. The timelines had gotten all flipped around. The air sort of crackled around us as things started to warp at the incorrectness. Steve suddenly got very weak, like before he became Captain America. Then he was back, but it was like he was fluctuating. I grabbed him and carried him to the jeep, and our driver started driving to the hospital. I held him to me, even though he was bigger than I was.
"Don't you worry - I'll always have your back," I said.


****


Whew! Ok, so that was the bare bones of the dream. There was a lot of melodrama and dark comedy in the beginning. And I knew everyone, sort of, in my dream - like I knew Jonathan, and Richard, and  Chumly (from Veep), and we weren't really interacting but then we were interacting strongly. I was myself, but like many of my dreams I was mostly watching myself in the dream, able to hear my own  internal thoughts because they were my own (mind bending!). I don't remember who the guy was that I had hastily agreed to marry even though I didn't love him, but I have a vague feeling it was Jeremy Piven.

Captain America is easily my favorite Avenger, and Chris Evans might be my only celebrity crush at present. So it very satisfying to have a dream where we were each other's support.