The dream, as promised, and some book stuff.

The tunnels went on endlessly, dark damp, with only an eerie strobe light vibrating across the floors at regular intervals. Tubes ran along the walls steam hissing from dark niches and electricity sparking a bright blue from exposed wire connections. I stealthily moved through the dank passages, rounding corners in a near crouch and hiding in shadowy niches when the least scuffle of sound alarmed me.
In the distance there were voices and footsteps, but they appeared to be staying far away from where I stealthily moved through the corridor, following some sort of invisible trail that led me to a crossing where horizontal and vertical tunnels came together. Behind me footsteps approached and without hesitation I vaulted up into the vertical tunnel, climbing my way up much like a spider would scale a wall. It was all quite impressive, really. Hah.
So there I went, easily crawling over tubes and wires, jumping from one side to the other, finding purchase where I wished. Posthaste I headed up the tube, aiming for the grill that covered the opening, looming way up ahead.
I could hear the sounds of people drifting down: laughter bouncing against the walls and rolling over me like a tangible wave when I finally reached the top. Wedged within the four walls, my legs braced on the wall opposite of me I peered through the slats overhead.
There were people milling on a sunlit street, futuristic clothes of straight lines and boring grays everywhere. I squint at the light, my eyes zooming in on an open portico located across from where I’m hiding.
Staying in place as a hovering transport truck buzzes into view, I hesitate for only a moment and then push the heavy grate up to slink my way out of the tunnel. The exit is located in a niche on the street, hidden within the shadows and just when the transporter continues on it’s way, fully revealing me to the street beyond, the grate is back in place and I’m standing their brushing dirt of the loose fitting black suit I’m wearing.
The design is much like that of the other people on the street, but I know that it is different. It hides the tools I carry and need for what I’m about to do.
Sunlight slashes down between elegant high-rise building, warming my face as I push away from the niche and head out onto the pavement. The concrete surface under my feet is warm from the late summer day, but I pay it little heed as I head towards the portico that held my attention earlier.
Massive glass walls reflect the street in its entirety, and show my confident gait until I reach the sliding doors and enter. Cool air surrounds me immediately, indoor plants spreading a rainforest scent that invigorates me. I know exactly which way to go, the large leafed plant of to my right, hiding a large portion of the wall that goes up a solid twenty feet. The height of the foyer is quite impressive; the glass façade behind me showing the busy street outside when I reach my destination and turn to make sure that no one is watching me.
Lithely as a cat I jump up, grabbing hold of a ledge and pulling myself up with practiced ease. Large windows loom overhead on the wall I’m scaling with my gloved hands and rubber-soled feet, and I go carefully around them until reaching third from the top. Perched precariously on a one-inch ledge I am just barely able to peer through the lower corner of the window.
Inside a couple resides, from the look of them they are arguing and I watch them for a full minute before I reach into my pocket and take out a sliver of glimmer steel. A tiny blue light blinks on the tiny device and I’m just about to aim it on the window when a loud alarm screeches, startling the couple inside into turning towards where the top of my head is visible.
The alarm doesn’t bother me, and I’m about to point the device into the direction of the couple, when…Trin Trin starts tugging on my blanket and wakes me up.

Which was what happened in the dream I mentioned I would write about last night. So frustrating! I’ve been wondering about what would have happened if I hadn’t woken up on that particular moment. Was I a thief in the dream? An assassin? A sleazy paparazzi looking for the perfect shot? A spy? The choices are limitless, but of course I will never know.

So, on to today: No wonderful dream to write about today, I fear. I wake up far too abruptly to remember anything, really, and since my arm was painfully asleep when I roll out of bed to grab the Monster Boxer.

Once I’ve hastily gone through the morning rituals…I’m about half an hour late waking up…I head to the house and start taking down yesterday’s laundry.
Grandpa and big brother helpfully assist in the folding, and since there is no new batch waiting, big brother and I get to the edit just as soon as we finish breakfast.

We manage four pages in the edit today: A steady progress that brings us to the prelude of “The Love Scene” of the book. There are two others, of course…it is a romance novel nonetheless…but this is the first one and needs to be impressive. I mean, let’s face it. The hero needs to be discerning enough to want to make love to the real heroine, of course, and not one of her multiple personalities.

But on the other hand, throughout the story we have all become rather attached to the sub-heroines (aka the different personalities) so they should not feel slighted either. It’s a dilemma, really. Who’s going to come first? Will they be jealous of each other? Or are they just going to wait their turn.

The debate big brother and I have about it is really quite ludicrous; considering it’s all about fictional characters it shouldn’t matter, but there you have it. In the end, an author’s protagonists become as dear as children, I guess. You want them all to be happy about the situation when all is said and done.

Once our daily session draws to an end, big brother departs in the company of grandpa. They’re going to get another batch of rocks while the younger sibs and I tackle some more cleaning in the house.

First thing I do is take down an old closet that has slowly been falling apart, and since it’s contents need to be stored somewhere, I spend a solid hour constructing a new one and put it up in a different spot. Now that the old closet is gone, we’re all like the space it’s created, so we decide to leave the place free.

Once the new shelves are up and sturdy, I take a bucket full of soap and start cleaning again. (It's an endless task. Once started I'll see something else that needs to be cleaned even before I finish with the one I'm doing) I rub at dirt and dust, cleaning windows and frames alike, while removing even more spider webs. Little brother is doing the same thing in a different part of the house and by this time little sister is preparing a quick dinner of spaghetti and sauce.

I’m still scrubbing the front door when big brother and grandpa return, so the sisters head up to help unload when a phone call from Danni reminds me that today is our tenant’s birthday. I want to make a pie for her, but since our supplies are running low, there really isn’t anything in the house with which to do it (tomorrow is grocery day) we decide that we’ll buy what we need tomorrow instead.

I finish today’s cleaning session with a good scrubbing of our fabric closet, and then clean up to have dinner.
Properly stuffed, I watch an episode of “Medium” after which little sister comes down for the lesson she insisted on about punctuation. I’m quite amazed that she wants to learn it, but also pleased that she comes to me for it. I’ll make a writer out of her yet, hah.

After about an hour of going over commas and periods and the complexities of the English language, it is time to start on our intended session of “sending out” our latest book project.

Middle sister, who has volunteered to do a lot of the searching on the Net that is required, joins us at the table and for the next couple of hours we sit in a line, three computers in front of us as we make a master list of names and requirements.

It is a tedious and slow process, but it needs to be done, and doing it together, while finding out that middle sister is really making an effort to learn all the tricks. Heck, she’s learning a lot faster than I did. It took me years to figure out what she’s managed to pick up in the few weeks that she’s been at it. Makes me proud, that’s a fact.

Running way behind…again…I head on up to my cabin for the evening rituals. Another day passed, the way they always do. Sometimes I do wish that there was a pause button.