Dreamt of my cousin. She was very pale. She is 33 in the dream, tall, lithe, alabaster skin, strawberry blonde hair.

I found her slumped over in the warehouse. We must be in Detroit. She was bleeding from her shoulder on her white torn t-shirt over her black leather pants and goth platform boots.

I looked at the shoulder.

“It was good. I loved it,” she gasped as she gestured toward the wound on her shoulder. It was a fresh scar wound, but it was too deep.

“I need to get you some help.”

I leaned her against a large cardboard box on a pallet as she passed out. She sat slumped against it like a marionette with its strings cut.

I need help, but I’m not sure where to go. I can’t alert the authorities. They will lock her up in a mental hospital.

Black and white photo of hallway in warehouse. Location: Detroit, Michigan, USA.

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Filed under: dreams,photography,writing - @ 13 June 2021 16:53

Tags: art, dreams, photography, writing