...well, this morning probably. Anyway, it was so vivid that I wrote it down as soon as I woke.
I dreamed that I went to Casa Sorrow at Sill's Bend. Lucy Tartan was hosting a huge blogger's meet. We were greeted at the door by a well-dressed cat, who hustled us through to the living room. There was a large host of people milling about, a number of whom were cats. You were there, and you, and you.
The room was very modern, glaringly white, with lots of fur trimmings. There were many sunken areas, rimmed with couches. Each sunken area had entertainment qualities -- ie, one would have a sound system, another a visual system, another just games. Each was full of people.
Lucy herself turned out to be a large woman of medium height, in her 60s, dressed in a High Victorian mourning dress of glossy black silk taffeta. Her glossy black hair was piled high on her head. Very raven-like. She had an enormous shelf-like bosom and a huge bustle at the back, so she took up a lot of room as she moved around, greeting people.
There were three very old men sitting in the first sunken area. They turned out to be Lucy's brothers, one of whom was called Dorian. They referred to Lucy as The Sister all the time, as in 'I don't see The Sister, do you?', 'The Sister will be here soon, don't worry.' They ignored all the people, just fretting querulously to each other throughout the event.
Lucy was bustling around, constantly pulling out interesting things for everyone to do. The cats kept up the refreshments. Everyone was having a terrific time. I took lots of photos, only to find towards the end that my memory disk was faulty and that none of them had actually worked. And the phone kept ringing, and it was always for me -- clients, wanting their design work done NOW. So I kept missing out on the really good stuff.
But you -- and you, and even you -- looked as though you were having the time of your life.
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