and the rust, and the rest

Last night I dreamt about zombies. These zombies disintegrated by sunlight, but they were definitely indexed as zombies, not vampires, in the dream. I went to see a ballet performance--Swan Lake--in a dark baroque theater with all the lights half-dimmed, and red curtains like heavy eyelids drooping over the stage--some of the zombies (who could assume the persona of any human) were dancing in the Danse des petits cygnes number. Then I was living in a large chaotic house populated by several families of these zombies. Some were matronly women, some were law enforcement officers--their personas, that is. There were rumors and whispers, and a sense of imminent danger. At the end of the dream the windows were broken, and the families of zombies, holding hands, walked out of the windows into the sunlight and disintegrated in the air, like old reels of film, when the way the fibers are sizzling is projected for the audience to witness, open-mouthed and gasping.