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May 1992

May 10, 1992

I was at work. There was a huge pile of stuff and it was on fire. This pile was by the gate leading out of my work area, but back far enough so that nothing else was close enough to catch on fire. The mound was about twice the size of the pile of brush I burned out in my back yard. The flames reached about fifteen feet in the air; clean, orange flames. This pile somehow personified a dirt pile and even resembled it. Later in the dream, this huge bonfire was a dirt pile, and it was not on fire. It was huge, at least ten to twelve feet in height, and in the same spot in my work area. It was regular dirt, not topsoil, but the kind of dirt you would dig up in your own backyard. I remember Sam doing his usual shit and trying to get the best price for something or other. I don't know exactly what he was doing, but he was being his annoying asshole self. As he talked to me, I made an attempt not to make eye contact, my friendly little way of letting him know that I was disturbed about something, but I sure in the hell wasn't going to let him know what! Then I remember Sarah appearing on the scene. She was carrying a metal slat, something like the ridged pieces of aluminum that comprise the wall of the shed out in the back of my yard. Sarah was holding it up as high as she could, just like she does when she wants to make sure I see her carrying her blanket and handing it to me, or her coat, or her shoes. She walked to the big dirt pile, maybe once or twice glancing at me to see if I was looking, and she placed the slat on the big dirt pile.

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