Dorro Inni, A baby's name


I got me thinking again about online casino as we were boarded on a bus en route to work. The dusty road shoving off nano-particles of dust onto our faces through the bus windows didn't veer my sight off eying the online casino on the side of the road. Then, I just realized I had to post a dream which have been marooned in my unpublished posts on blogger.

AJ with his nephew and I are headed for the Casino. We play roulette with tens of faint faces of Casino goers but we don't win. Because of AJ's prodding that we have to leave the place avoiding hooking up more amount, we see ourselves bounding out of the place and realize that the day has turned to gray. The way out of the pavement extending from the entrance of the building is dark and its silence is somewhat scary. Marred with agitation in our facades and the fear growing in me, I turn my back to see who's behind us. I see a suspicious guy wearing a maroon shirt, his eyes fixed on us. He looks belligerent and diabolic with his red eyes blazing in the dark. I panick as I suspect him to want to stab any of us. I see him hiding a knife on his back.

He would have stabbed AJ had I not warned him to run away. Three of us all run for our lives. I feel so bad though that AJ scamper off first and never bothers to care for me and his nephew. I also run as fast as I can, make some pauses, and wait for AJ's nephew. AJ's nephew tumbles his way to escape and I see him transform into a teenage boy.

I also dream of an incident where I see myself and AJ naming three baby girls. They are new born babies though I am not sure whose babies they are. We give the names, "15", "Iri", and "Dorro Inni". AJ's mom tells us though after a witty comprehension that Dorro Inni is the reverse of the word "toilet" in our vernacular.

The Bazooka Chase


At home again and am alone. All the family members have gone out. Later as I am about to leave the house upon closing all the windows, I hear a knock on the door followed by a faint voice of a woman. I open the wooden door and I see a woman in her 40's carrying an empty straw bag and has started reaching for the biggest lemon fruit in the front yard. The sight of her stealing prods me to motion to her and tell her out loud to get only the big and the ripe ones.

She gets mad instead at my condescending request and starts mumbling derogatory expressions. I become repugnant and my face glow with disgust more than it did earlier upon seeing her face almost covered with bulging and festering blotches like she is ill with leprosy. The blotches look fresh and they look like they just popped out. For all I know, they look gross. I start to think that she might have evaded from one of the care homes somewhere and she badly needs to go to a leprosarium. I remember her taking the five biggest lemons in the yard and I kvetch telling her we need them for Christmas. I keep yelling at her but to no avail. I don't know why but I can't even lay my hands on her. Instead, she smugly proceeds to another tree picking more fruit and that turns me more indignant as if there's a smoke coming out of my ears.

I try to follow her with the attempt to quell her injustice but then she turns into a young girl, perhaps a seven-year old girl. What amazes me more is that an old man perhaps in his fifty's comes to her rescue. The man is garbed with a baroque-like costume. With him is the biggest bazooka I have ever seen. He certainly looks belligerent as he approaches me.

I chicken out trying to defend our fruit tree in the yard and I see me scampering off the scene. He, however, manages to pull the trigger off the bazooka and starts aiming at me while I am doing the chicken run. I feel the magnitude of the bazooka's trajectory on my entire body but it isn't enough to destabilize me.

Phew! I wake up alive.

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