Good morning, everybody.
I was in the main bedroom of my great grandmother's house, which has in waking life been sold to someone else since my great grandma died about two years ago. The room had its lights off, as usual, so that only greyish daylight came in through the thinly draped windows. I stood in the back right corner of the room, where my grandma had a wall-length desk. Right in the corner was a pile of clutter.
On the top of that clutter I saw a record sleeve that was lying face-down. I lifted the sleeve. The front cover was a scene like on the front of a pulp murder novel. The background of the scene was yellow, like a yellow sky. In the foreground were a man and a woman. They were both in their late twenties, but mature-looking and attractive, in the early 1960s style. There may have been a car near them.
I knew that the scene was depicting some moment from a murder novel. This record was probably a read version of that novel. At first I thought the novel was by John D. MacDonald. But I looked closely at the cover. I think I saw the name of the person who wrote the book. It wasn't MacDonald. It may have been something like Gill. The title of the book was something like Stock Chase.
I lay the record sleeve face-down again and wondered why my great grandma had this. She loved reading so much. I don't think she would have gotten a book on record or a book on tape, if she could have read the book herself. (I didn't consider that IWL, for the last few years of her life, my great grandma *only* read things on tape.)
My great grandma was now just behind me, standing over my left (or right?) shoulder. I knew that she was dead. But I simply figured she'd come back from the dead to talk with me. My great grandma asked me some question -- probably what on earth I was doing, just dilly-dallying here with this pile of clutter.
I tried to find something to do, so that my great grandma wouldn't be upset with me. I turned around and walked out of her bedroom. My great grandma's house had a small hallway; so all I did was basically walk out of her bedroom, when I got a pretty direct view to her living room. My mom and my sister were in the living room. My mom sat in my grandma's old chair. My sister sat somewhere else. My great grandma still stood behind me.
I saw a porcelain scuplture standing on my great grandma's coffee table. It was about 75cm tall. It was of a little girl. The girl had short, blonde hair in loose but straight curls. The girl wore a white and pink dress, the skirt of which went down to just above her knees. The girl was faced away from me at about a 45-degree angle. She seemed to be standing on her tiptoes, as if she were trying to see out the front window.
I then looked back and to my right. I somehow saw, in either my grandma's bedroom or the guest room, a head lying on either a bed or a desk. I don't know if the head was real or a sculpture. It looked like an ancient head, shrivelled up and dried up. The skin was like leather, and it clung tightly to the skull. The eyes looked small, and there was only a tiny bit of hair left on the head. It was only the top part of the head, too: there was no lower jaw.
I looked back to the sculpture of the little girl. I may have looked to my mom and sister as well, thinking that I needed to tell them something. My great grandma, still standing behind me, may have said, "You know all that work you used to do with stocks? I think you should still be doing that stuff." I had thought all that stuff was done for me. But when my great grandma mentioned that I should do it again, I felt a little hopeful. I thought maybe she was right.
I turned around and headed back into my great grandma's room. My great grandma had gone in there herself. I don't know if our plan had been to talk about things more or what. But my great grandma suddenly seemed to be getting either very angry or very distracted.
Suddenly my great grandma shocked me by urinating all over her room! I'm not exactly sure how she managed to do it. But she was running all over the place, peeing all over the floor, as well as shooting jets of urine all up along the walls, and all along the surfaces of the furniture. The only thing she didn't hit was the bed.
I couldn't tell why my great grandma was doing this. I had been starting to talk with her. So I wondered if something I'd said had made her angry, or if she was doing this to interrupt me, so I wouldn't get distracted from the new things she was telling me.
By the time my great grandma had stopped, everything in the room was soaked in urine. For some reason, I thought it wouldn't do to have pee all over the floor. I may have thought that the people coming to look to buy this place wouldn't want it if they saw pee all over the floors. So I took a towel and got down on my knees to dry off the floor.
As I did this, I may have been asking my great grandma why she'd done something like this. A hole may have opened up in the floor, and my great grandma may have been preparing to go down it. But she may have stood up for a moment more, watching me.
I was noticing, though, that the urine was itself already vanishing. There was something very obvious about this to me. It was like the pee was ghost-pee, which had the characteristic of vanishing or evaporating quickly, leaving no trace (although there may have been traces of salts in some areas). I was only seeing a few tiny spots left on the floor, where larger amounts of urine had pooled.
I either understood or was told by my great grandma that the reason my great grandma had peed all over the place like this was to mark her territory, like an animal would in the wild. The urine was all vanished now. But this space was still my great grandma's territory. It's possible that this meant that she could leave for now, but that it would be much easier for her to come back.