I’m writing this very quickly after just waking up to try and remember…
I was back in college. Which one, I don’t know. But I was late for class. I entered the classroom, already in progress, and slinked over to a seat. Immediately the professor began to call on me. Frankly, even in the dream I had no idea what the class was about, but that I needed it to graduate. The professor asked an assortment of questions that didn’t make any sense. First he wanted to know the name of the three sisters in King Lear. Then something about the third principle of physics. And finally he called on me again to count in Spanish.
After the class, students were hanging around in the corridor, near a large window. There was just slightly open, maybe a couple of inches. One of my old friends from college appears, and just as quickly, he jumps through the crack in the window (a physical impossibility) hit the ground (we’re on the first floor) and comes back in the door grinning. Just something I picked up he says.
I’m with another student, leaning against the window and we turn around to see how such a trick is possible. It doesn’t seem to be. Could he have opened the window quickly and somehow closed it again on his way through?
The professor appears, smoking a pipe, and glares at me. He wants to know how I expect to pass his course since I’ve missed the first ten sessions. I tell him, I don’t know but that I need the course to graduate. (As a side note – something like actually did happen to me. I had one class that I hated and never attended unless I knew there was a test and somehow managed to pass).
Anyway – he just glares at me and walks off. And before I can say anything, my other friend is attempting the same trick of slipping through the window – but it doesn’t go well. He gets through okay, but he lands on his head in a stairway that goes down to a small apartment.
Everyone rushes out to see if he’s okay. Slowly, we’re able to pull him back up, and he says he’s okay and walks off to sit on a bench. While we were trying to pull him out of the stairway, we notice that the door is open to the apartment and go down to investigate. The place is dark, sort of like a small trailer, and filled with old magazines. Someone says that this is Marilyn Monroe’s trailer – and that she’s shooting a film, Something Got To Give nearby. I tell someone, that’s the last movie she’s going to make. I walk out of the trailer, with the old magazines (now I see that they are filled with early shots of her) into the daylight. I’m wondering if I could somehow find Marilyn and warn her about what’s around the corner but at that point I wake up.
The main thing I remember was that feeling of being on my way to a class where I really didn’t have any idea of what was going on because I had missed so many classes and feeling bad for Marylin’s impending doom. One other detail I just remembered: when the guy who dove headlong through the window, the guy we had to pull to his feet was seated on the bench, his head and neck were covered with mud. He scraping the mud off his face, letting it dry, and using it as a sort of clay neck brace. And that – is a fairly typical dream for me. Only unique thing is that I remember it so well.