Not sure about that third one–in fact, I’m sure it’s wrong–because the second took me so long to get right, by the time I got to it I forgot the last of the three words. At the top of the stairs, led by a bikini-clad comely lass with such soft tanned skin, were two arrays of hoses wrapped in plastic, and each was labelled with names like “Strawberry.” Was my job to mate the matching ends and ensure the flow of liquid between them. The “Transhibiscus” connection (itself a corruption from something even more fictitious) kept leaking and required several tries to fasten securely, causing my memory failure afterward.
I had another dream about walking under large trees occupied by a giant bear or crocodile, most likely influenced by that much smaller one we pass on the way back from Ralphs taken up by bees, but my mind was still on that soft, soft skin…
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