The red truck looked new, or vintage mint. A Chevy Silverado, it was a mid-seventies model. Things like time are often less relevant in dreams, so the truck may have been new. Standard cab. Nothing fancy.
I’d inherited it and was going to pick it up. A caveat was attached: I shared the truck with four others as owners. Unusual deal for a truck but I was happy. I arrived and met two of my co-owners. Dream anonymous, they’re nobody I know from my life. Nor can I provide any description. They were just there. They showed me the truck and explained the problem: nobody had a key. That needed to be fixed. “Well,” I answered, “did you look in this drawer?” I walked over and opened a drawer on a small end table. Within was a key. I held it up. “Did you try this key?”
No, they’d never seen that key before. We went out and tried it. It worked!
We walked around, talking about the situation — sharing truck ownership — and admiring the truck. Seemed odd to me that someone would do something like that in their will, unless there was something different about the truck. Investigating, I discovered many parts of the truck was made of precious metal. As I explored and discovered, the others joined me. We discovered many pieces made of gold and silver. The truck was a rolling treasure.
Our final two owners arrived, as anonymous as the first two. We shared our news about the truck’s gold and silver. After we all rejoiced, I suggested that we take a drive. We piled in, three in the cab, two in the back, with me behind the wheel. The truck was shown from above, driving down a pristine highway, glittering with reflected sunshine.