My dreams are odd.
I can dream in color or monochrome, and silent or with sound--sometimes even with a soundtrack. Sometimes the smells in my dreams are ethereal. Of course, there are dreams where I have superhuman abilities such as flight, unreal strength, and the ability to pleasure multitudes of women in one stroke of my hand. Please feel free to make any wordplay you want with that. On the opposite end of the emotion spectrum, I have recurring dreams of drowning in ice-cold seas and then obliviously marching in my own funeral procession, only to scream at the cemetery workers when I see them shoveling the fresh, cold dirt on to my casket, resting in an oblong hole.
About a week ago, I had another dream of someone whom I know I have never met. Even more peculiar was the fact that she had a name that I had never heard.
The dream started with me driving in a hard downpour, attempting to get to my hotel. Up ahead, I see a man and two women with large backpacks and camping equipment on their backs. I pulled up next to them and offered them a ride. Accepting without hesitation, they pile into the backseat of my rental car, scattering beads of water on the dark grey velour upholstery. The man says thank you, and I offer them the opportunity to stay in my hotel room for the next two days to clean up, eat with me, and stay out of the rain, which the radio station's weather forecaster said would stick around for at least two days.
For most of the first day together, we talked and became familiar with each other. I can't remember the names of the man and one of the women (the brunette), but the blonde's name was Olesya. They were Russian rock climbers/backpackers on a two-month trip exploring different cities. It was not revealed to me in my dream where were currently, but the architecture looked Romanesque. The brunette was mostly distant, busying herself with magazines and the hotel's visitor information channel. The man excused himself to dry some of his clothes and to shower, while Olesya and I continued talking and eating some Toblerone. The conversation went from various topics, all of which were neither here nor there for both of us. Eventually we steer the topic to a commonality: we were both raised by grandparents and extended family. As we talk for hours, Olesya gradually moves closer to me. At one point, she straddles me and pins me on to the sofa while the brunette continues thumbing through magazines with the TV providing a distraction. She kisses me on the forehead before telling me she has never felt so connected to someone in such a short amount of time, when--
BOOM!
The bathroom door swings open, and the man emerges, needing a bar of soap and his razor that he forgot in his backpack. He looks over at us, and is immediately awash in jealousy and controlled rage. Speaking in their Russian dialect, he yells at the brunette and Olesya to get dressed and packed, because they cannot be around me. Olesya sits next to me on the couch and watches them gather their personal effects. The man gets annoyed, seeing she's not making a move. The brunette walks out of my hotel room without a word, and the man walks over, grabs Olesya by the ankle, dragging her out into the hall. She's flailing her other leg, writing and reaching for me, begging me to take her hand and save her. I sit on the couch watching everything, causing Olesya to feel abandoned with my inaction. Once they disappeared into the elevator, I get up to shut the room door and walked over to the window overlooking the street. At the bus stop, the man, the brunette, and Olesya are waiting at a bus stop in the pouring rain. A red municipal bus stops there, blocking my view of the trio. As the bus pulls away, I see that they are no longer at the bus stop.
My dream ends here, having been interrupted by my alarm clock. I Google the name "Olesya," and apparently it is a common Russian female name. I have never heard this name before, much less met someone with this name. The faces of the man and the two women were unfamiliar to me. In fact, I have no friends or acquaintances from Russia.
What causes dreams like these?
