I fainted? Earlier today on Sproul, underneath the rows of knobby trees by the concrete bench in front of GBC. And by today I actually mean not long after two yesterday, a.k.a. Saturday.
I suppose it began when my partner accidentally danced me off the paved area into the dirt by one of the trees and I fell because my foot caught the edge of the tree zone badly. A slight sprain, nothing bad, but not something I would want to dance on. Probably lucky in retrospect as things would have probably turned out far worse for me if I had fainted while dancing.
Fast forward a few minutes, I am leaning against the concrete barrier and suddenly everything gets dizzy. I know my partner of a few minutes ago is talking about something, but I can’t catch the meaning. The words hit me, but the content slip over me like fish through hands in a stream. Fast moving and slippery. My head hurt. I couldn’t focus. And then everything is spinning. You know on TV when people are shown to have a concussion, their view splits into several foci that then spin around. I had always thought that it was just a gimmick, but that was what it was like. Like the world was reprinted on three different layers that got all got spun around on different centers of mass and different orientations. I suppose I was trying to sit down and then I woke up.
Confused, I might add. For there was a ring of people staring at me. Not strangers, it took me a second to realize. I was on Sproul? It was the Lindy crowd, yes, I come most Saturdays to dance. But why was I on the ground? That were the first thoughts running through my head.
The next were, oh, I guess I fell. How long was I out? For I still felt myself wrapped in the arms of the dream world. That place of distant worlds and grand tales. Stories so absurd it is hard to believe they could ever have been imagined. And stories so vivid that reality pales in comparison. This was a gray dream. The only colors like hues painted on black and white photos. Some industrial cityscape. Not too big, still in the midst of processing. Perhaps much like a moderate sized town in the midst of the Industrial Revolution, moving towards becoming a city. There were people around me there too and for the first split second, I thought the ring of folks about me as I awoke were they. But they (here) were colored and they were looking at me. And then I realized that the sky was bright and the space large, bright, and free of mechanical obstacles. The ground covered in stone pieces, but not various shades of cobblestone. No dust in the air, so much that it was visible from movement of breathing.
And then it began slipping away, as dreams have a tendency to do. Something I was supposed to do there. Some knowledge I knew, bit by bit dropping from my mental view. Half of me fought to go back. To hold what remained of the dream there. Remember what was slipping away. Perhaps grab ahold of some piece of memory that would pull myself back into the body of that world. A carriage ahead of me. No horse? Mechanical then, or perhaps a truck of some sort. Black, two small window panes in the back. A transport of some sort, but for what?
I was trying to get on it undetected, or just follow. There were people milling about, just the crowd. And two in dark uniform near the back of the carriage, along the sides. Another one further up, not in view. I was creeping in the shadows of the crowd. Not that there were that many there. Five or six at the most in front of me. A dog, black, dark in the shadows to my right.
The vehicle was just entering into an intersection. The narrow street that we were on merging into the left side another not much larger. A woman was walking in this intersection, white? Some light colored dress and a white top hat. Accompanied by one or two men in suits. So a Victorian sort of world, with houses ringed by eye level high black metal fences, pointed at the top of each bar. My last thought as that world pulled away, like an image among heavy clouds, covers being pulled away, was that I needed to get somewhere.
And then I was back in this world of color. The first instant it seemed as if it were a photograph. People pasted on the page, then the dream slipped away, the image clarified into worried looking faces. Why were they so worried? Did I just wake up from a nap?
“Do you feel ok?”
I felt fine. Confused and disoriented, but of the kind when you had just woken up. “I’m not sure, what happened?”
“It looked like you were trying to sit down, but then you just collapsed.”
“Really? I fainted?”
“Here, drink water.”
“I feel fine.”
“You should drink some water.”
“Should we take you to the Tang center?”
“No, I feel fine.”
<Sirens head up Telegraph>
“–, did you call the ambulance?!”
“No, I was about to, but then she woke up”
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I feel fine.”
“Do you think you had a stroke?”
“Well, you were twitching.”
“Yea, I was sitting and you were standing. Then suddenly you fell and landed on me. Good thing I was here otherwise your head might have hit the concrete.”
“Some people come to swing to catch girls and others to throw them.”
“Do you think you had a stroke?”
“Eh, it just felt like I just woke up. I feel fine.”
“But you were twitching. That is a sign of a stroke.”
“Has this ever happened before?”
“You should still get checked out at Tang.”
“I was just out for fifteen seconds.” I start in protest. That seemed hardly necessary. Though I probably should.
“We should check if she still remembers things.”
“What year is it?”
“Who is the president?”
“It’s Sarah Palin.”
I glare at them. Good thing to know they had found humor in the situation. “It’s 2010 and Obama’s president.”
“Actually it’s been 90 years. You were cryogenically frozen and they thought it would be easier to ease you back into society if you woke up to familiar faces.”
“Beware of the laser sharks.”
“Berkeley’s become a preserve and no one is allowed in or out. They’ve kept everything on the inside the same.”
“There is a fence around everything.”
“Quick, hide the laser shark. Otherwise she’ll be confused and faint again.”
Which leads me to question, which is stranger? My friends or my dreams?
For anyone that reads this, the dialogue might have gotten somewhat out of sequence/re-constructed. I am not good at remembering dialogue. Actually I am downright terrible at it. Sorry. If you remember it better than me and wish it to be altered, let me know.