A dream I had
I assume we were somewhere in India - two people had to be executed. One was a young girl my age, beautiful, who was guillotined after being found guilty - I screamed that she was innocent and sobbed as they put her head in the contraption - she smiled serenely (and it must have been sadly) as she was about to die. At one point I ran and pulled her out but she got slightly vexed and fitted herself back in asking for me to be held back - her mother tried to explain to me. The executioner said forcefully though not aggressively that she had been found guilty - placing his emphasis in a way to suggest that though she had done nothing she had to die because she had been found guilty. She was wearing a green sari and had beautiful long almond eyes. Her mother was distraught too that her daughter had been chosen to fill this role, but she stood back quietly. The guillotine wasn't like the French one - it came from the side and cut horizontally as the person did a sort of leaning forward awkward kneel. But I didn't see the cut. I was high up very high up and all I could see was a partly crumpled body with blood on the ground and the small round bloody mass that must have been the head. And then I was on the ground and heartbroken. In dreams emotions are so strong but somewhat shapeless - I was next, I believe, in a supermarket that was gradually closing. Lights turning off and grey walls or some metal rising as I searched for my things. I must have been hungry, all the food items (namely rice cakes and bread) stood out to me and I spent a good amount of time making sure I had the specific one I wanted. I remembered my pain but was truly caught up in my shopping. And then ahead of me in the aisle I saw, walking away from me, backs turned, her family, I think a father and two other children and her mother. I debated trying not to see them but my eyes met with her mother's as she turned halfway to pat one of the little children. The child shuffled off and I approached the mother now alone. She was in white - not a sari, more the desert cloth covering of women in the Sahara. She looked dark, like she was Senegalese. I had the feeling that though the same person this woman was different. I was quite surprised to find that I didn't wake up sad.
