with my lighetning bolts a-glowing i can see

sometimes the subject matter of what i read snakes its way into my dreams and manifests as weird little episodes that, when i wake up, i think back on and can only decide that yes meaghan, you are a freak.

when we read dante's inferno i was particularly interested in the level of lust- mainly because that's where i'm going to be if and when i go to hell- ad the two lovers that dante and virgil meet there: paolo and francesca.

in life, francesca was married to paolo's ugly dwarf-hooknosed-crippled brother, but she had it good and she knew her place. unfortunately, one day she and paolo were hanging out in the parlour reading some poetry about lady guinhywvar and the knight lancelot. this invaraible led to some hot'n'steamy love making, which the hooknosed-dwarf walked in on.

he killed them and francesca and paolo went to hell.

so, three times now i've had this dream involving them that's basically the same. i'm in my room, working on something or reading and i get this phone call from tuesday and peter. there's a terrific din in the background, and they're talking over one-another and yelling and what i get out of them is that i need to get to peter's house immediately, as i'm desperately needed.

of course, i tell them that i'm busy, and ask them why. but the phone starts breaking up and they make me promise. and i do, so i run over there, arriving not so much later.

the sun is setting and it's a beautiful day. tuesday is wearing this magnificent dress whose colour i can't even tell you- just know that it's the most beautiful frock you've ever seen in your life EVVEERR. peter has a red velevt hat with a big green feather perched on his head. and the both of them are sitting, cross-legged in the road, in front of peter's house smoking cigars.

big motherfucking cigars.

they point at the house and inform me that the didn't know she'd be so much trouble and that really, since i understand her the most, i'm going to have to deal with her because really, she's trashing the place and could she maybe pick up her feet as she flloated over the coffee table?

i finally figure out that they've stolen francesca from hell and that i have to go into peter's house and pull some sort of kick-ass ghostbuster move and get her back to the winds of lust somehow.

[yeah, i know].

twenty bucks says that tonight i dream about verb infinitives, catullus' quite-homoerotic love poetry, and the fifth declension- as well as the random meanings of words like sumo and sodalis.

any takers?