071223

A fragment of a dream. It began as I strolled into the office of a good friend of mine, somebody I don't actually know in real life. We were both dressed in suit pants, white shirts and vests, but I'm not sure what time period such things would have been common in. Perhaps the 1920s. He was an editor of a series of scientific publications. A manuscript lay on a table. He saw me looking at it and mentioned that "she" had gone through it, and had done a much better job of editing than anyone else usually did. I knew that "she" meant my wife, and I had a clear mental image of what she looked like (a pretty brunette in an ankle-length black dress), but this was another person I don't know in real life. I went over to look at the manuscript. The pages she had corrected were marked with yellow sticky notes. This seemed perfectly normal for the time, until after I woke up, and as I started flipping through the pages I noticed she had missed one obvious error. There was a mathematical statement in brackets and the two brackets were of different sizes, so I wrote on the manuscript in red pen to indicate that. The manuscript was a report of some sort of calamity, a natural disaster. Suddenly my friend and I were at the aftermath of the event, talking to a farmer. He was sitting in a field of short grass, not like anything most Farmers would ever have, dressed just like we were. Then I woke up.