So.

Google+ is cool, right? One of the cool aspects is I’ve found a bunch of writers on there. One of them has a weekly writing prompt that I’m trying to take part in (partially as a way to eat up my daily word quota when I’m struggling). The prompt this week was to write about a dream–here’s the prompt in its entirety:

Write about a dream you had. 300 words/One dream. Stretch it out as much as you can. Focus on describing the emotional reality of the dream, but do not use the word “feeling” in any tense (ex. feel, felt, feeling).

So nu:

Fiddler on the Roof, as imagined by someone with A Song of Ice and Fire on the brain.

The play began as normal and ran as normal until the scene in the tavern with Tevye and Lazar Wolf.

After that, things got a little strange. Perhaps it was because I’d been reading A Dance with Dragons the night before, with all of the shenanigans that had gone on in previous books, but instead of acting as civilly as he did, Lazar Wolf began shouting and demanding that Tevye be crucified for breaking a marriage agreement. The Rabbi, surprisingly, agreed.

Act II began with Tevye being led up to a cross, and monologuing about how this was unjust, against Leviticus (I guess stoning’s cool, but crucifixions are too Roman?), and thus against Jewish law. This monologue turned into an incredibly depressing song addressed to the residents of Anatevka and his family and went right up to the point where Tevye would have been “nailed” [tied in the dream] to the cross. As I was portraying Tevye, I was well aware that this was all a play, but I guess my subconscious pegs me as a fantastic actor, since tremors of fear ran down my spine.

As the Constable begins to tie Tevye to the cross, Lazar Wolf has a change of heart.

This is where the dream kinda goes foggy–part of the problem of waiting four hours to type it up, I guess–but the next thing I do remember in the dream was Tevye sitting on a throne as the residents of Anatevka paraded around in kilts and bagpipe music filled the air.

I cannot stress enough that I’m not making this up on the fly. That unmistakable sense of being in the zone as an actor pervaded the entire dream–which I’m thankful for. Because the absurdity of literally everything else would have been too crushing if it had been a lucid dream.