A Dream

[hazlogs]

Date: June 1, 2002

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your dreams begin to dissolve, as if they were made of wet paint and slowly 
  being smeared. A uniform grey color is the eventual result. As the grey 
  fades away, color fails to return--leaving the vision looking like an old 
  black and white film.
You find yourself in a circular clearing. A small campfire can be seen to your 
  right and a small mound to your left. You can't see it, but you know a stone 
  table lies before you. The table is obstructed by a large buffalo looking 
  straight at you.
You gaze into the animal's eyes, running your off hand briefly over its muzzle. 
  You step alongside of the animal, continuing to run your hand over its head, 
  neck, and then mighty shoulder--a shoulder that's been gored recently several 
  times by the buffalo's own horns, as evident by the blood on both horns. Your 
  hand tenderly grasps a fistfull of the shaggy beast's fur and holds it for a 
  time that seems to last eternally, yet no not long enough.
Your other arm rises up slowly with a large, pre-20th Century revolver in hand 
  and places it against the side of the buffalo's head. Then you pull the 
  trigger.
The vision abruptly ends with a bang.
When you wake, there is the scent of buffalo on your off hand and a gunpowder 
  smell on your other hand.

==============================================================================