The Weirdest Dream I Ever Had
In response to Dancing Elephants prompt #29 of 52
As you might expect from someone who writes fantasy and science fiction stories, my dreams cover a wide range of subjects and perspectives. I might be myself in a dream. Or I might be another person, in another time, or from another world. I could even be an animal.
I chose my high school based on a dream. The two schools I was choosing between were a boarding school and a religious school. I dreamt that I was interviewing Captain Hook, and he revealed that the reason he became a pirate was that his parents sent him to a boarding school. Obviously, I ended up attending the religious school.
But that’s not the weirdest dream I ever had. That honor goes to the Shakespearean pigs performing Hamlet.
Although, it wasn’t just that the acting troupe and their stage manager were all pigs. Because that, in and of itself, would not have been enough to elevate it to my weirdest dream of all time. I mean, what about that time I dreamt I was a space-going rabbit opening a restaurant on the moon? My dreams have to work to out-weird each other.
The cast of characters
At the time I had this dream, I was reading Arthurian fantasy. So, the pig playing Hamlet was named Arthur. The lead female role of Queen Gertrude was played by a pig named Morgana. And Laertes was played by a pig named Mordred. As you might expect, Morgana and Arthur were on-again-off-again lovers, and Mordred was their child.
The other pigs, rounding out the cast of characters, were unnamed roles. But they were a complete modern Shakespearean troupe (as in, the women’s roles were played by women…or at least, female pigs). There were also backstage hands, prop masters, and lighting crew, all of whom were pigs.
The final named pig was the stage manager, a pig named Merlin. He carried an orchestra director’s baton, which he used to gesture to the various pigs who needed to move on and off stage. Any resemblance to a magic wand was clearly intentional.
The action
The pigs are rehearsing for their performance. Morgana storms onto the stage, where Arthur and Mordred are getting ready to run the final duel between Hamlet and Laertes. She begins screaming at Arthur for some perceived transgression. Mordred sides with his mother, and Arthur flies into a rage.
Grabbing one of the swords from the prop table, Arthur attacks Mordred. Mordred picks up another sword and desperately tries to defend himself. He knows nothing about real sword fighting, only about stage fighting.
However, in the confusion, Arthur grabbed one of the stage swords with a collapsing blade. Mordred picked up Excalibur.
Arthur charges Mordred, intending to run him through. Mordred stands, frozen, Excalibur extended before him. As Arthur approaches, the stage sword touches Mordred’s doublet and collapses, exactly as it is designed to do. From the audience, it would appear that Arthur stabbed Mordred to death.
Arthur is not expecting the sword to collapse. He is unable to check his speed and ends up impaling himself on Excalibur. Which does not collapse.
Mordred ends up killing Arthur with Excalibur.
The aftermath
Abandoning whatever imagined slight led to the whole disaster, Morgana flings herself to the stage floor and cradles Arthur’s lifeless head in her lap. She begins wailing in grief.
Mordred allows Excalibur to fall to the floor, as he whispers protestations. He didn’t mean to kill his father. It was an accident. Arthur ran at him, and there was nothing he could do.
Merlin the stage manager comes up beside the distraught young pig, and rests his hoof on Mordred’s shoulder. He’d seen the whole thing, and it was not Mordred’s fault. In a comforting tone of voice, he says, “Your father was a pig of deep passions.”
Conclusion
I’ve described that dream to a number of people over the years. They’ve all agreed, that is the weirdest dream they’d ever heard.
I’m kind of hoping maybe you have had a weirder one? And if so, please tell me about it!
This is a response to the prompt by Dr. Gabriella Korosi:
Read all of my responses (so far) to the Dancing Elephants Press 52 weekly writing prompts: