Category: Dreams

The Messenger Dream

I’d been selected to be a messenger. Don’t know who chose me, nor the message.

I was waiting to get the message in my place, a small apartment in a large high-rise building. Few windows let in light but natural sources outside were diminished by storms. Friends and acquaintances visited. Several noticed that I had four model cars in a case. These were Formula 1 cars from the 1970s and 1980s, 1/12 scale. People bent down to look into the black case to see them. As they began commenting, I turned on the case lights so they could see them. Up front on the right was the Ferrar 312 T which Lauda drove to championships. Behind it a little was a Mclaren MP4/4, a model driven by Senna and Prost, with the markings and settings for Prost’s vehicle. I explained these things to everyone, but then, the time for me to act as messenger arrived.

The message was given on a slip of paper. I went out and delivered it, no problem, despite a deluge. Coming back, I descended a long, steep hill on an asphalt path. Left of me was busy thoroughfare, twelve lanes of newly paved road, packed with cars. At the bottom of the hill was an intersection where a wide new road came down from the right. I needed to cross that wide road. My building was on the other side. I could see its parking lot.

Rain still poured as thunder rumbled. I stepped onto the road into the crosswalk, then looked back and left to ensure the cars turning right from the main road were letting me pass. They were stopped and waiting, so I waved thanks and proceeded. Mind shifting to the traffic coming on the road which I crossed, I saw a huge tanker truck approaching, going way too fast for conditions. I stopped to await the outcome.

The long truck, a blue tractor with a silver trailer, was rushing toward the intersection, sliding with his brakes locked. As he passed me, the truck entered a slow jack knife and then fell over onto its side and slid more, stopping just after entering the intersection. Everyone saw it coming and stopped. No one hit it and it sat on its own, alone in the intersection.

A young Black man on a blue bike had been riding down the hill toward the intersection. When the truck arrived and jack knifed, the bike guy braked hard, slid, lost control and was thrown from the bike.

I rushed to help, recognizing that he was also a messenger. He was conscious but dazed, sitting on the roadway, his twisted bike to one side, rain drenching him. Others came to help him, too. I told them to call for an ambulance. Someone suggested helping the truck driver, but I disdained that; he’d brought that on himself, I thought, and others were undoubtably going to help him. A glance that way confirmed that people were at the truck.

I asked the bike rider, “Are you a messenger?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Are you hurt?”

He shook his head. People went to help him up. “No,” I said. “He had a big tumble. There may be injuries which we don’t know. Wait for the EMT.”

Then I asked him, “Where does your message go? I’ll take it for you.”

Dream end.

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A Cat Dream

My wife and I were traveling in the gray Toyopet Publica which we had during our Okinawa residence back in the early 1980s. Two cats, Boo and Quinn (deceased in real life in the last two years) accompanied us. A whim took us on a visit to a ramshackle and primitive roadside tourist trap. Small cabins painted light blue with dark blue trim pressed in alongside a small store, tiny café with deck, and peeling white picnic tables and a zoo.  

Boo and Quinn were acting strange, pulling my attention to them. I was worried about where they were and what was going to happen to them. I kept mentioning this to my wife. Meanwhile, she was walking around, trying to see things.

I ended up going to the end of the main building. Bushes to the left over remnants of a cinder block wall pinched the path into a narrow passage at that point. As I checked on the cats, I heard noises. Turning, I discovered a large horned animal on the path back by the building. It seemed to be having a fit but moving our way. I grabbed my wife, who hadn’t noticed, and said, “Come on, we need to move.” Then I took her around to the café deck. I find us seats but many people were using the ramp beside us and kept bumping into me. Annoyed, I decided to move. A man beside me said, “Thank you to the man with the green hat on for moving.” I was wearing my green Tilly hat so I knew he meant me. I didn’t know if he was being sarcastic but went on.

Searching for my cats in different places, I encountered a wild little red cat throwing a fit. I realized that it was located where the other animal was having a fit and guessed there might be something wrong with the air there or something. The increased my concern for my cats. I sped up my search and found the two. Both were almost comatose. I took them back to the car and revived them, and then called to my wife to leave.

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The Shorts Dream

I was visiting with family. We were going to a special event. It may have been part of a wedding or a holiday. Never clear to RL me although dream me understood.

Women and children dominated in the dream family. I knew none of them from RL. A chaotic dream, almost immediately upon arrival, I set up in my room, a narrow, tall space with a cheap bed. This room later changed, becoming wide, and long, with a low ceiling. I didn’t notice the change during the dream but as I look back on it, I can see the difference.

Word was given, time to start getting ready to go. I dumped my suitcase to go through my clothing. I’d only brought shorts with me even though I knew it was supposed to be a fancy function. As I went through the shorts, discarding many as unacceptable, I chastised myself with my packing decisions — what the hell had I been thinking? Women who were dream family members kept coming by to see what I was choosing to wear. I had the impression that they were taking their cues from me. That unnerved me, as I felt pretty clueless and unprepared. NTL, I was going to do my best.

I tried on a pair of black and white shorts. Knee-length, they had a pleated waist and fit me well. Now a shirt! I found a silvery one which I decided went well with the shorts. Women coming by came and told one another, “He’s going to be sparkling.” They went off. When I next saw them, they were dressed in glittering sequined dresses in red, blue, black, gold, silver, and white. All wore ornate necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. They seemed like they were quickly ready to go.

But the children weren’t ready, and were following me around, waiting for me to dress. It’s now that my room became different. As I held up the shorts and checked myself in a mirror, I realized my shorts were muddied. OMG, now what was I going to do?

I began going through my shorts again. At that point, a young man came in. Supposedly another relative, he acted a little off. I thought that he could be on drugs. Other than that, he had short blonde hair, was my height but very muscular.

He walked around my room, telling me that he was just looking around and then asking me what I was going to wear. I showed him my muddied black and white shorts, then set them aside and continued going through the others. He complimented me on my shorts, walked around a little more, then suddenly moved. Grinning broadly, he left.

I decided that I’d wash the mud off the black and white shorts. They were gone! Realizing the guy had taken them, I went out after him. I quickly chased him down. He denied it at first, then held up the shorts and confirmed he’d taken them, but justified his behavior because he liked them and I had a lot of shorts to wear and he had none. As he finished this, I jerked the shorts out of his hand.

Shouting, he threw a punch. I dodged that and scrambled backwards and up onto a low wall. Fists balled, he came after me. Others were watching. I knew he was way more muscular than me and figured that he would easily beat me senseless. As he approached, I said, “I’m not fighting over shorts. This is stupid. These are mine. If you want to steal them, you can, but everyone will know.”

He’d been about to take the shorts and hit me. Jerking to a halt, he started berating himself. I grasped the gist was that he had problems and he was struggling to change. As he did that, I slipped away.

I still needed to wash my shorts. Locating a bathroom, I went in, closing and locking the door behind me. As I bent over the sink, a woman pulled the top of the door back from the frame, unhooked a lock and then reached down and unlocked the door. She opened it; I pulled it closed. She opened it again.

Another woman came up, demanding to know what was going on. I explained my end. She answered, “We can’t have this.” I realized that she was referring to a locked door. Leaving that bathroom, I went off to find a phone.

Dream end.

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The Cleaning Dream

I was in a place where a female friend was holding a seminar. I don’t know its subject. It was being done in the woman’s home, in a great room area, combining living and dining room with kitchen on the end. Everyone present was known to me as family, friend, or RL co-worker. When the seminar ended, the woman said something like, “We need to do something about this.” I understood she was referring to cleaning up. I jumped up and said, “I’ll take care of it.” As everyone sat there watching, I collected all the dirty dishes, taking up to the sink as I did. Then I ran water, added soap, and washed the plates, silverware, and glasses, putting them in a rack to dry as I did. The sink was small and the area was crowded. The entire time, the rest sat in chairs, watching. So I started talking to them, telling them stories. Someone came up with a red and yellow cardboard label for some food item. The printing on it was bold black. I took this and announced to the others that it was a pass to take them anywhere they wanted to go, and then walked out, randomly selected one of the others and gave it to them. The rest laughed and applauded. I returned to finishing the dishes.

The end.

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The Two Lions Dream

I was out on a shallow ridge. Alone, grasses blew around my thighs. I was planning to walk home when I looked across the narrow plain. Two male lions had just topped an opposite ridge and were sizing me up.

Panic shot through my body. I didn’t want to run, thinking, if I do, they’ll give chase and they’re faster. I grabbed a rock and large stick to defend myself and began trying to walk calmly but quickly — but not too fast — backwards to the house.

The lions were on me before I reached the house, nosing and sniffing me but not attacking. House doors were open. They went in as I did. I told myself to stay calm and think. The house was a large, white rambling building. Everyone was still in bed. All the bedrooms were on the upper levels. If I closed the doors to the upstairs, everyone would be safe. Then we could deal with getting the lions out of the house.

I successfully snuck around, closing doors as the lions walked around sniffing. Their presence attracked the house cats. I worried about the home felines but they insisted that they knew what they were doing. I retreated without them. Going upstairs, I decided I needed to sleep.

When I awoke, the others were up and the lions were discovered. At this point, people volunteered ideas for chasing the lions out. One man decided to take a bat and chase them away. We were all insisting to him that was a horrible idea but he stalked out with bat in hand, leaving the doors open.

The lions evaded him. Now they were into the upper levels. The house was a large and old, and had odd light fixtures and controls, along with a heater and furnace. Someone had turned both of them on, along with all the lights. The house was getting very hot. The furnace’s red heat was visible through the floorboards’ seams.

My mother-in-law (deceased in RL) came out to see what was going on. She told me the furnaced needed to be turned off because it was getting too hot. I agreed. The problem: the lions were by the switch.

I got everyone back upstairs by calling and talking to them. Going downstairs to the furnace control, I discovered that several of the cats were acting like they were lions, walking about with the lions. I reached the furnace switched and turned it off. The lions sat down on the floor, looked at me and disappeared. My MIL came downstairs and said, “Good. I thought we were going to have to call someone. Let’s have breakfast.”

Dream end.

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A Friend’s Parents Dream

I was a young man, as I often seem to be in my dreams these days. Visiting at a childhood friend’s home. He wasn’t there. His mother, Arlene — who is deceased in RL — was hosted several of us attending a local school. While visiting, we were all watching television. I settled down on the blue carpet and went to sleep.

I awoke sometime later. Sitting up, I discovered that I was in a short-sleeved black dress. A little more explanation is needed. The dress was black, but see-through. It buttoned in the front. It had wide seams which weren’t transparent, and front pockets which also weren’t transparent. The dress came down to my knees, and I was fully dressed, in the same clothes as before.

Standing, I wondered what had happened and how I’d come to be wearing that dress. I attempted to take take it off but the buttons couldn’t be undone. It was tight, but with some maneuvering, I managed to pull it up over my head. Just as I am finishing, I hear a soft tearing sound. That stops me from trying any longer. Just then, my friend’s mother comes in with a tray of food and drink, telling me that it’s time to get ready. She goes on to explain that she put that dress on me to stay warm, sets the tray down, and hastens to help me. As she pulls it over my head and off, she tells me that she hopes she can get this off without tearing it because it’s special to her. We then hear it tear more. Looking at it, she sees that it’s torn and is dismayed, but then tells me to eat because I need to shave, dress, and go.

I eat an egg salad sandwich from the tray and drink coffee, and then start dashing around. My clothes are upstairs but the bathroom I’m to use is down below. As I hustle around, going up and changing clothes, then going down and shaving, others arrrive. I hear that my friend’s father will be arriving at any moment. (He passed away in RL a few years ago.) I want to be dressed and ready to go before he gets there. But then, he comes in.

I’m called upstairs. As I go up the steps, someone else tells me that Fred — the father — and Arlene want to see me. I step into the dining room where they are. Fred has a box on the table, and is opening. As he says hello to me, Arlene explains that Fred just purchased his first CD player and she wanted to know if I had any CDs for him to play because he doesn’t have any. I tell them that I have just the thing and dash downstairs.

I’m thinking that I’ll loan them several of my classical music CDs, which will surprise them, thinking that it’s more like the kind of music that they would like, rather than the rock I listen to. But I brought my little CD case, and there’s no classical music in it. I select a few blues CD and take them back up to them. Grinning, I explain the whole thing about the classical music CD.

Dream end.

I’ve not seen my friend since my late teens. Oddly, I’ve dream of him since then, as well as his parents.

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Trees & Change Dream

The dream involved two pubs-café-coffee shops. Hard to say exactly what they were. Both were tiny places. One at the top of a parking lot, and the other at the parking lot’s bottom. The parking lot was rutted and in disarray, with a large sugar maple tree about midway down. The sugar maple tree is interesting to me because it reminds me of the one on my in-laws’ land when was younger.

I was younger in the dream but had my current panoply of friends. Among these were several friends who’ve passed away. They were drinking beer with me in the shop at the hill’s top. Well-lit, the place was elbow to asses with people, and we were squeezed in around a small table. In response to comments by one, I replied, “That proves that the other business is being set up to fail.”

A deceased friend answered, “You’re wrong.”

I began to argue back but checked up. “You know something.”

He nodded. “I know something.”

We finished our beers, rose, and walked out. Like that, I was walking into the parking lot the next morning. With me was my back pack with my computer. I was going to the place we’d frequented the previous night. On a whim, I decided to check the other place, which was the one we’d been discussing. Going down the hill, passing the sugar maple tree, I saw a large opening formed in the trunk by the roots. Inside was a large though muddy, comfortable space lit by a single white candle with a yellow flame. Thinking of how it reminded me of a hobbit’s place, I wondered who lit the candle, as no one else was there. It’d be a good place to shelter, in my mind, going on, leaving the candle lit.

The bottom shop was constructed from wood and painted gray. Ancient and splintered, the shop needed fresh paint. Large trees bracketed it on either side. Reaching the entrance required crossing a short but wide wooden bridge which matched the building.

Inside, I set up my computer and then met the owner. He spoke with me about my backpack, commenting that it looked heavy. I replied, it was dependent on what’s inside. When it’s just my computer, it’s less than twenty-five pounds but adding books added weight. He answered, “That makes sense.”

I told him that he needs to take care of his business. I met this as a warning, which I explained to him, based on what I’d seen and heard. I then left to go up to the other place. Almost immediately, I realized that I had my backpack but had forgotten my computer. Fortunately, a little girl who’d been in the shop chased me down with it. I thanked her and pressed on.

Back up the hill, I struggled to enter the shop. A large tree had grown close to their front door. Growing at an angle, the tree’s girth forced me to shift sideways to enter the business. All this surprised me, prompting comments to myself about not remembering the tree being like that. Getting in, I set up my computer and ordered coffee. People gathered around to ask me what I was doing. Writing, I explained. They began asking questions about what I was writing, prompting me to share and expand on what I was writing. Finding my coffee cup empty, I made to leave, but they insisted they wanted to hear more, and bought me another cup of coffee. This mug was much larger, which I joked about. As I took the first sip, I discovered that the shop was full with people waiting to hear me continue my story.

Dream end.

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The Space Snake Dream

I was brought on to help create a new vehicle for people to travel. As I walked with the team, talking outside, I saw a small red and yellow snake. Ideas lit up my mind. I sketched out a plan for us to develop a design based on a snake. Objections quicky rose. Growing more excited, I explained how we would use small segments, giving the snake great flexibility. Each segment would be a living, working or storage compartment, etc. Our travel snake would be able to turn in multiple ways.

They told me it was supposed to be for space. I got more excited, telling them that we can develop multiple small segments, just like the other segments, which would be used for propulsion. They could be interspersed along the snake’s body.

While I was telling these things, the snake was being built. Without a short while, I saw it fly over some brown mountains and land nearby. I skipped through the sky to it. The snake’s segments were much larger than I’d suggested and its overall length blew away my expectations. Someone said, it’s getting ready to go.

By that point the sun was setting. The cloudless sky had grown deep indigo and purple. A few stars and satellites populated the zenith. Looking up, I watched the white snake, people visible in windows lit with a soft yellow-tinted light, climb into space on a blue flame.

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A Writing Dream

It’s a disheveled dream, with a complicated cast and strange twists. I start out in a parking lot, a young man. My wife drives up in her gray Honda Civic, the one driven in yesteryears. I tell her to park and to make sure she locks the car. I point out a parking slot and she drives away.

Others are met. I tell them I’m waiting for my wife to park, but I’ll see them inside. I’m by my car of yesteryear, my first RX-7, a light blue vehicle that we bought brand new. My wife comes up. I ask her to park the RX-7 for me and tell her where. As she gets into the car, closes the door and drives away, I walk off toward a building. I pass her car; she’s left the door open. I’m dismayed, asking myself, what’s wrong with her? Her seatbelt is hanging out of the door, so I theorize that its position prevented her from closing the door and she didn’t notice. I fix all that, and then head on to building, a multi-story, long, white modern edifice with black windows, one of those places seen in business parks across the U.S. As I walk the loaded parking lot, I see my parked Mazda. Its door is open. What is wrong with my wife that she’s left doors open and unlocked in two cars?

In the building, I enter an apartment. Mom is there, along with her boyfriend, Frank. She waves hello to me. I find my wife in the kitchen preparing food and tell her that she left the doors open and unlocked on both cars. She mutters something defensive back. I answer, “That’d be fine if it was one car, but it was two. You have a problem.” I walk off.

Someone comes by to give me the book I’m working on. It’s a big, clumsy book, totally unfamiliar. When I open it, I discover nonsensical words and phrases written in a large, sloppy style using crayons. I recognize that it’s Frank’s book. I protest, “This isn’t my book. Where is my book?”

I go through the house to find my book. As I search, I find sandwiches overfilled with meat, cheese, and lettuce. No one else is there so I wonder aloud but to myself, “What’s with all of these sandwiches.” I continue going through, looking for the book, confounded, picking up a sandwich and eating it as I go. I begin noticing piles of coins on end tables, coffee tables, window sills, and the floor. Someone else is walking through the room. I turn and ask, “What’s with all these coins?” They reply, “I don’t know, you left them there.”

“I left them?” I ask back, but I’m alone. I realize that I’ve eaten my sandwich. It’s gone but there are plenty more. There’s also many more piles of money that I didn’t see before. They’re everywhere, growing taller and wider, filling with silver coins.

Dream end.

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A Mom Dream

I was visiting Mom’s place. She was younger than RL, more aligned with the mom known throughout most of my adulthood.

I was younger, but my sisters were their current agents. Their children were present, too, contemporary as adults to me.

Visiting Mom’s place was a process of exploring because she’d moved. On the bottom floor, décor in shades of gray, black, and white dominated. The building was long and wide. I went outside to check out her backyard. I discovered trimmed trees organized in rows. I wondered if they were fruit trees and looked for evidence of that but found nothing conclusive. While I was looking, I inadvertently broke off one branch. Embarrassed, I didn’t want to be caught and looked around for somewhere to hide the branch. Looking up, I saw Mom watching me and smiling from a window above.

I went back in. As I walked through this floor, I realized it wasn’t a house but an apartment building, and I was in the lobby. My sisters and her children arrived, and then their children’s friends. We started having drinks. Many of the children were talking about the Lockheed C5 Galaxy, a huge transport plane. A dream news story said only two or three remained. Some foreign government was quoted as saying that they wanted the aircraft but the U.S. wouldn’t give them up. Some of the children suggested that if they were the other government, they would steal them. I went into a pedantic explanation about security and how that would be difficult because C5s were labeled ‘Priority A’. I suggested that if the C5s were stolen, the U.S. would probably shoot them down so that others couldn’t have them.

We went outside, to the building’s front after this conversation, where the party expanded, becoming louder, concerning me about disturbing the building’s residents. People proposed going to other places. I said that I would need to change.

Then Mom called down to me on the intercom. I answered it. She was asking me if I could go get something for her, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying because her voice was very weak through the intercom. Others came over to help interpret what Mom asked for. I thought she was saying that she wanted some pills like the ones I’d gotten for her before, and that they were available at a store or locker in the building’s rear, but I couldn’t fully comprehend what she meant.

That’s where the dream ended.  

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