Memory chips

I was strolling downstairs in the morning sun, flitting about like an aimless dandelion when I came upon the most gorgeous flower shop.

It had that absolutely well understood kitsch vibe and held an array of beautiful flowers both small and large potted in whimsical pots.
There were long glass jars and pudgy fat ones sporting dried flowers and fresh wild purple colored ones. Rainbow lilies and black roses.
Pink tulips and shell white orchids, neatly lined and stacked on retro rusted blue coloured wooden planks that fused into the iridescent assortment of motley flower scenery.

Seeing my awed interest in the kaleidoscopic landscaping of the shop, the owner sauntered over and started a friendly discussion regarding what flowers would I be interested in.
I kept pointing at the small wild ones, the ones with fuchsia tip and brown stems placed in slender glass bottles, but somehow the shopkeeper kept picking up large flower pots and showing them to me. I kept my inquiries directed towards the smaller more dainty ones but he kept telling me how the small ones would not do the house as good as the larger uglier ones.

Frustrated I walked out of the shop, only to realize that the shop formed a smaller part of a rather large venue that was hosting a sort of wedding reception in the afternoon.
Beautiful white gazebo's, strewn with silver baubles and silver sand.
Odd shaped minuscule mirrors sewn through white strings hung about all around the venue, glowing under the sun, reflecting delicate strands of vibgyor shine.
Large rectangular ochre wooden tables with smooth tops and white mats were cleverly placed to provide efficient seating to a hundred guests.
There were so many people, a proper Indian wedding reception, and I felt odd and out of place, since I'd left home for a small stroll just, and was dressed in nothing more than my daily denims and winter warding jacket and muffler.

I cast my gaze towards my shows and wtf, I was dressed in white ethnic wear and sported pretty sandals instead of my wear and tear suede boots.

Alarmed, I made a bee line for the exit. I didn't know these people and I'd somehow entered mistakenly in a wedding reception, when up a grassy slope that formed a small hilly hump I saw a friend, more of an acquaintance but it was a happy coincidence. And we smiled and laughed and hugged each other, just then I saw another friend who's actually a friend and we hugged all over again.

My friend told me that another person wants to meet you, and I looked up the hilly hump and saw someone else I knew from work who was crying.
I asked my friends why he's crying and they told me he's actually happy, he just had a daughter.

Oh, I started running up to congratulate him, when suddenly there were a dozen coolies balancing a few tons worth of a giganormous aluminium box on their heads, and they started losing balance.
The damn thing began to topple over and thus began a stampede. Thousands of people started rushing down the slope and I was caught at the back of it.
I wanted to run to one side instead of running in the one direction that the whole stampede was heading towards, but alas. The shove of the thousands acquired a magnitude of such force that I was unable to tear myself away to duck to one side.
I cursed my shoes and wished someone would airlift me, and lo! Suddenly gravity had no affect on me. I slowly began lifting up off the ground, hovering over the crowd.

This unnatural phenomena of suddenly flying gave me a headache and I woke up to realize that my head was indeed throbbing with ache.
----
I'd curled my neck in such an odd position so as to pull my head under the blanket to avoid the cold outside that it gave me a bloody headache.

Gah. A dream after so long that ended with a bloody crick and an ache.
It's slowly subsiding and I remember but fragments and flowers of this dream.

Morning.. hearts.. kisses.