The Brass Key

Tonight I dreamt in European cathedral, WWII darkness against old-world immensity. Not much left of it now. A few crumbling buildings, last night’s rain on cobblestone streets. What I do remember is finding a brass key in the gutter outside the chruch, dropped, maybe, by one of the sisters who had just shuffled out for the night. Or was it dropped by enemy troops who had occupied the area?

The key had a nubby little arm with a wide, flat body, kind of like the keys used to get change out of gumball machines, only larger and nonsymmetrical. It was distinctively clean and shiny. There was a glyph etched on the flat part, really a double glyph. Larger, and on the right side, was a swastika, with thin arms (it was all hand etched). To its left was a smaller rectangle, with details suggesting an electronic apparatus.

Who was I with? We snuck inside the cathedral, past wooden doors, the floorboards creaking slightly. We were on an upper level, and through window reinforced with chickenwire, we could see down into the nave of the church. I noticed a plastic box on the ceiling with a small slot in it. I tried the key and it fit, turning on the lights in the nave.

And that’s all I remember. The key seemed to hold some important meaning, though in the end it wasn’t very impressive. Were we rebels against Nazi occupation? Did the key represent enemy technology which we would use against them? There was more to the dream, also in the same setting, but it’s gone.

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