dream of Rastafari and vampire

last night i dreamed of a vampire leaving in small rural town, not unlike the one in which i was born. the vampire embodied part of my own being, but (a portion of) the rest was dispersed throughout the dreamscape, allowing me the omniscience - but not omnipotence - of third person narration.

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the vampire is trying to do no harm, hitchhiking up a mountain road to his home. a vehicle stops to offer him a ride. it is a gray panel van, no windows, and a single ripped bench seat near the front of the cabin. there are four Rastafari inside, and one can discern an odious atmosphere taking shape amidst the ganja haze rolling out the doors. the vampire sees none of these things - or pretends to see none of these things - and hops inside. as the door closes, the narrator wants to stop the sequence. the Rastafari are zombies.

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the vampire is making his escape and finds himself atop a mountain, looking down into the dense forest of pines below him. the drop is hundreds of feet, but he knows he will survive. the zombies are getting closer. a decision must be made. the landing will hurt but her will survive. the vampire jumps but does not fall.

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the Rastafari drain all the blood from the vampire, turning him into a cardboard cut-out version of himself. the vampire is approximately three centimeters deep now, and the Rastafari drop his body downtown near the center of anonymous city that may - or may not - be Denver. they place him up against a brick wall, hidden behind some other pieces of corrugated cardboard, and drive back up the mountain to their mountain abode.

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the narrator is concerned, worried for the vampire, and uncertain of how to resuscitate him once he is found. the narrator walks the streets of the city that may - or may not - be Denver. there is a neon sign that reads "Jesus Saves" on the corner of the building, which has escaped from the waking memory of the narrator into the dreamscape. as in the Waking, this sign is mixed, holding both portent and promise.

corner of Lawrence and Park

the narrator discovers the cardboard vampire under the sign and carries him back to an antique shop where friends have gathered. the vampire was born a vampire, and his blood was stolen by the Rastafari for reasons unknown. none of this matters now. the narrator prepares a vat of blood, which is shaped like a glass coffin. the origin of the blood is unknown. a siphon, tube, and funnel are connected to the top of the vat, and the vampire is placed inside.

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the vampire returns to life, weakened and confused by the ordeal. he is no longer a born vampire, and the taste of copper in his mouth - the taste of blood not his own - will never leave him.