Young again, as it often happens in my dreams, my wife and I were at a three-day festival. We knew a few people there casually, but most were strangers. We were making acquaintances, though.
I’m not sure what the festival was about. It was partly outside and inside, on different levels, but was very easy to get around. Some areas were set up with drinks and other areas had food, dancing, and demonstrations.
After wandering around some, my wife and I went to explore different things. I ended up in the company of a young charismatic man with thick, dark curly hair. He was the de facto leader of a social group there and invited me to be part of that group. I had a lot of fun with them.
Then there was a quiet time for resting. He invited me to find them the next day. I ended up borrowing his car. First, it was a silver blue. Then, it was red. Both times, it was a small car, convertible and sporty but nothing familiar. Yet, with the second car, I thought that I remembered them. Very red and small, it still seated four. I recalled that a panel could be put over the rear seats to give the car a racier look, but that could be removed for seating, which I thought was clever.
I drove the car a bit but had trouble parking it. Misjudging an angle when I turned into the garage, I had to wait until people walked around the back of the car before I could reverse, widen my approach, and park in the space.
After that, I began to drift through the festival, eyes open for my wife or my new friends. I ran into my wife. We talked for a moment but she went on.
The festival was thinning out. A woman who had been with my wife approached me as I looked at a menu board. She asked if I wanted something. Her way of talking confused me and I politely declined and walked away. She re-approached with a large bag of potato chips. Giving them to me, she lectured me a little, telling me that I should accept offers when they’re given. Then she finished, “We Americans need to stick together and help each other.”
She seemed to indicate that we were the only Americans at the festival. Her remark confused me. I came across my wife again and offered her some chips. She declined and went off again. I gave the chips to someone else and went to watch a demonstration of fire department teams showing their skills doing different things.
One woman led a team. She was very impressive with how she went about rolling hoses, wielding axes, and other things. Growing drowsy, I laid down to watch her from a platform. Others were there. I could hear them talking about the same woman who impressed me. After a bit, one of the other people jostled me. Faking indignation, I turned around and demanded to know who was disturbing my sleep.
I was surprised. It was my sister. She was her ‘real age’, that is the age she is now. Her youngest son, also in his current age, was with her, along with a few other people who I didn’t know.
I was now my real age. Telling them, “I’ll see you later,” I decided it was time to leave the festival and went off into a large warehouse lit with yellow lights to find my wife. Behind me, I heard my nephew say, “That’s how he is. Watch, he won’t be back.”
Dream end.
