Remember that song? By Snap! The folks who brought you "I've Got the Power!" The POWAH.
I digress. Already.
A dream woke me, perhaps an hour ago, and I haven't been back to sleep.
I came to so suddenly that the details of the dream, the narrative, are almost non-existent. I remember someone offering me a choice of two things -- someone's hands held before me outstretched, a different object in each. I think I was supposed to choose based on the smell of the substance proferred, though to what end I don't recall.
In the first hand was something pleasant but forgettable. In the second hand (the presenter's left) was a piece of wood. It was very fragrant, and smelled like it was burning -- a perfumed wood, not like chips one burns on the grill but more of an incense. Cedar, or pinyon? The burning aspect of the smell was so strong that it woke me abruptly with the fear that my house was in danger, though the fear wasn't part of the dream. I got out of bed and walked all around. By the time I reached the kitchen on the other end of the house I knew there was no scent to detect. Everything was fine.
The scent in the dream was still strong in the first few seconds after I awoke, but quickly disappeared. And I was left with a little soundtrack running through my head, which isn't terribly unusual -- in this case, a piece from the score for Amelie.
I wish I could say that this dream had some significance, but the little I can recall belies it. It's probably just one of those things -- a strong scent recreated by the synapses, for the synapses. Nothing I can remember encountering lately in life. Just a little phrase, a scrap, of some sensual life I've lived without my conscious self.