The first dream found me and my wife living in an apartment. A nice place, well lit, spacious, and quiet, it had some problems with ventilation and water, but I’d fixed them. However, one window gave me some trouble, so I went to adjust it.
I was surprised when I pulled back the window’s sheer curtains; another window, to another’s apartment was directly opposite, about a foot away. A man was over there. I easily looked into their pleasingly furnished place of overstuffed furniture (it was their living room) and then, as I thought was right, apologized to the man and made haste to shut the curtains and pretend they weren’t there.
But the woman, short, with thick, dark hair, was hurrying forward, calling, “Wait, wait.” So I did. She rushed up and asked, “How did you fix your ventilation?”
I had no real answer, explaining that I’d just kept tinkering with it. Impatiently, she interrupted, “Well, can you fix ours?”
Weirdly, there were then two other windows I could see in other people’s apartments. A woman was at each, a man behind them asking, “Can you also fix ours?”
I was taken back. I hadn’t done anything special that I could explain. I’d just kept addressing it. But I couldn’t tell them no; they wouldn’t let me. So I agreed to fix their places.
Dream end.
The next dream found me in a small square waiting room, darkish with heavy wood paneling. I’m not sure where people were waiting to go. I wasn’t waiting but just passing through. A woman escorted me through the room. I came across one individual, a man on the floor. Bearded with curly brown hair, he seemed almost lifeless.
“Oh, that’s Reardon,” the woman said when I asked about him. “He’s a lost cause. He doesn’t have a reason to go on.”
That upset me. Though the woman and I continued on through the room, Reardon stayed on my mind. I finally said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave him like that,” and went back.
Getting to him, I just gave him a long hug and talked to him, telling him that he was special, and that he shouldn’t give up. Then I went on.
I next came back into the room. Much lighter than it was before, a door was open on the other end. People were filing out. Most were already gone. Looking around, I asked about Reardon. I was told that he had recovered and that he was about to go through the door. She said he was very happy with what I’d done and kept talking about me.
I hurried over, calling him as I did. I didn’t want him to have the wrong idea, which to me, was that I was in love with him. I don’t know why I was suddenly worried that this is what he’d believe.
I called his name when I saw him. He turned and greeted me. At least a foot taller than me, I was forced to look up at him. In his right hand was a thick fan of money, mostly $100 bills.
Seeing me, he grinned. “I know what you’re going to say. I know what you’re thinking. You think that I think I’m in love with you, but I’m not. I understand what you did. Honestly, it saved me.”
He offered me money as a gift. I declined, saying something else that I don’t remember. We hugged, my face to his chest. A woman at the open door said it was time for him to go. They were waiting on him. Reardon released me and went through the doorway.
Dream end.