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I was on an expedition exploring an ancient ruins -- apparently a temple. It was a well-preserved ruin like one finds in the arid Middle East, but it stood by a bright stream winding through meadows and green, grassy downs.

Then I found mummified human remains beneath an ancient inscription. Deciphering the inscription I saw that these were the remains of one of my ancestors, who'd come here seeking the legendary Beautiful-Faced Snake. As soon as I knew that I also knew the snake was here now, stalking me. Turning quickly, I saw the tail of a great orange-red serpent slip behind one the pillars of the temple.

I pursued the snake around and through the columns of the temple complex and out onto the green sward by the river. There I saw that it was a giant -- about fifteen feet long. It was large as a Sumatran python, only bright orange-red and venomous.

Between the temple and the river was a chest-high hedge. The serpent slithered through it and into the stream. I seized my paddle and canoe and ran after it, vaulting the hedge and falling into my boat like a surfboard. Scanning the river, I saw the serpent slithering downstream, head held above the water like a periscope. I paddled in furious pursuit. If the serpent reached the sea before I could catch it, it would be gone forever.

I was almost to the breakers at the river mouth when I pulled alongside the serpent. I reached over the side and seized the snake's tail, hauling its long body into the boat like a rope. When the serpent's head slipped over the gunwale it struck, but I batted it aside. The snake faced me, fat fiery red coils writhing in my boat and mouth showing fangs, five inches long and weeping venom.

It struck again, but I caught the serpent's body just behind the head. I beat that head against the canoe's mid-thwart, stunning it. Holding the now senseless thing in my grip I wrenched its neck, severing the spine. The serpent was dead.

It was low tide, so I paddled my canoe to the inside bend of the river bank, beaching it on the exposed sandbar. I coiled the snake's body over my shoulders and laid the head atop my shoulder facing forward. Then I picked up my canoe in one hand and walked back to civilization.

I've worn the snake that way ever since that day, draped over my shoulders. Now when I'm disputing something, my opponent must stare into the dead eyes of The Beautiful-Faced Snake and know that I am its vanquisher.

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That's it, *exactly* as a dreamed it, except I put the images and feelings into words. "Beautiful-Faced Snake" is my dream's name for the monster, not mine.

Now as a fantasy geek the meaning of this dream is obvious to me. I've been going through a rough patch recently. The ruins are the plans I once had, and the dead and mummified ancestor is *me*, or rather the remains of how I'd pictured myself in those plans. The Beautiful-Faced Snake represents adversity, the bringer of wisdom.

This dream was my subconscious bucking me up. It's telling me that it doesn't matter if things don't work out because I'm Hercules.

There's a less-inspirational frequent dream I get, where I'm among a bunch of people (friends and strangers and characters from this and that) in a series of what seem to be hotel rooms, where we think we've all died and gone to Hell (as per Sartre's No Exit, I think) and, maybe, the Earth itself is no more...but, somehow, we pick up a newscast from Earth that tells us life has gone on.

One thing that Star Trek and Star Wars have done (or perhaps the Apollo Program) is we've lost the sense of space as a place of archetypal terror which, in *itself*, forces us to confront of fears. Bester's *The Stars My Destination* captures that feeling.

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Robert, I think that's a terrific start for a story.

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Anyway, one was short which is unusual for me. A war starship was making the rounds--actually I'm not sure what its mission was-- in the back country between a couple of star nations. Suddenly three pirate ships headed for it-- most probably not realizing it was a warship. One pirate was so far separated from the other two that I wondered if it was a different gang that just happen to attack at the same time as the two ships. Now that could make an interesting scene.

That was it for this dream. As I said short. I may go ahead and use it as the base for a scene. Seems like one event in a novel would be better, but maybe I can work something out to make it work for a short story.

The other dream was something ordinary in current time. It went on for a while but it was just an ordinary event. Actually, not something I normally do but nothing bad or science fictiony, fantasy, or a murder case.

The second one was a medium length dream and was about Buffy. Yikes, I haven't seen her show for years or thought about for quite a few months so where did it come from?

Anyway, I can barely recall any of it which disappoints me. But the one thing I can recall is would perk up the interest of dream Interrupters and head shrinks. In the last part of the dream, maybe the whole thing but the last for sure, I was Buffy. Double Yikes. But I thought like her and responded like her, what little responding I did. As I kinda, sort of recall. But the second thing I recall for sure though it is true for most of my dreams, they never finish the story.

I only had one lucid dream in this period. But I got quite expert in figuring out which parts of my life were reflected in the dream world. And, of course, several dreams led directly to several stories.

I don't think I would be able to do a dream diary, I wouldn't be able to get myself up to write a dream down. But what is frustrating to me is that at times I will go over the dream- as much of it I can remember, I usually forget half immediately- three to five times before I fell back asleep and I still can't recall it the next morning. That includes when I have to get up and use the bathroom. But at times I do recall it or can remember if I try hard enough, but that's few times.

Strange dream the other night though. As usual I forget the first part but there were two east Indian boys around six and ten their dad died and they ended up by themselves at least for that evening, don't know what he died of or what happened to their mother if anything. But they were in his office and the oldest figured since he had it paid up for a while they could stay there in need be. But their dad had ordered a dinner sent to him and they ate it. I wondered if he had been feeding them right even though they were not starving. They had something plus a kinda of salad with strips of cabbage and tiny pieces of veggies which they ate by hand. I woke before the dream ended.