I was in a tattoo studio sitting in large green pleather chair. The tattoo artist was preparing to do my work. I told him that I wanted my index finger traced: a tattoo of my finger on my finger, done in black and grey. He started the work, and I stared straight at the needle. "Stop. This looks stupid." He looked at me with bright eyes, "Gee thanks." I began to look at him closer, he was a large man, with a baseball cap on, jean overalls; he had a goatee.
"I'm sorry," I said, "It's not you. It was a stupid idea. Can you make something different?" He did, but as he was tattooing he somehow turned into a large woman. There was a little bit of blood running down my hand, but I didn't feel very much. The woman finished.
I stood up, and looked at my tattoo: a series of flowers done in Henna style, but in bright florescent colors: pink, green, and yellow (shades of highlighters). The flowers and swirls ran up my finger, onto my hand, and around a new place on my arm: between the wrist bone and the elbow I had a bridge, something like an addition to my arm, there was muscle under skin. The tattoo covered this new place. I looked at it a little bit surprised, and thought to myself, "I didn't know that was there. How could I fail to notice this?"
Suddenly the tattoo lady wanted to take a picture of me with my friend. It was the first time that I noticed I had a friend with me. (I think it was Ryan, who I met in waking life in Newcastle, England.) We stood in a doorway and posed, but what happened to our bodies was strange, we were bending and sliding down the doorway as she took the photograph.
I sat back down in the tattoo chair, and felt my teeth shifting. I suddenly realized that I was wearing braces on my teeth. Then one of my front bottom teeth fell out. I said, "I knew I should have gotten that dental insurance. Can someone call a dentist?"
I awoke.
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