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Dead scene
Jan. 16th, 2022 09:24 pmI dreamed I was in some kind of supermarket. There was a guy there in a blue bandanna. He was making snide remarks at me, and it was ticking me off. I lost my cool, and as he went charging past I confronted him directly, blocking his path in this food court-like area. He seemed taken aback, but then doubled-down on his banter. I grabbed him and caught him in an arm triangle, and we both tumbled to the ground of the store.
*
I dreamed I was walking down the street from my mom's house. There was a hill, and at the bottom a leafy street lined with almost mansion-sized buildings (most unlike her rather humble suburb). One of the homes was being razed and a new gigantic one put in its place--tastefully done, a Colonial made most of red brick with white accents. Out in front, next to the dumpster, was Colorado S., a friend of mine who has been dead a good couple of decades. Here he was, though, in fine shape. In real life, S. had been an addict who cleaned himself up but then fell off the wagon, fatally. Now he was the picture of health, climbing up on scaffolds in front of his home, showing me around. He even seemed to have a wife and kids, who were amused at S. talking to this strange man.
"I had no idea this street was even here!" I told him, amazed. He beamed at me, radiant. Indeed, a friend of mine from the grappling gym who just bought a new home ha a place right next to S. The street was teeming with life.
I strolled down it, and identified a home at the end of the block that seemed quaint and beckoning. Beyond that, there was dark wood, with fireflies flitting in and out of the oncoming dusk.
*
I dreamed I was walking down the street from my mom's house. There was a hill, and at the bottom a leafy street lined with almost mansion-sized buildings (most unlike her rather humble suburb). One of the homes was being razed and a new gigantic one put in its place--tastefully done, a Colonial made most of red brick with white accents. Out in front, next to the dumpster, was Colorado S., a friend of mine who has been dead a good couple of decades. Here he was, though, in fine shape. In real life, S. had been an addict who cleaned himself up but then fell off the wagon, fatally. Now he was the picture of health, climbing up on scaffolds in front of his home, showing me around. He even seemed to have a wife and kids, who were amused at S. talking to this strange man.
"I had no idea this street was even here!" I told him, amazed. He beamed at me, radiant. Indeed, a friend of mine from the grappling gym who just bought a new home ha a place right next to S. The street was teeming with life.
I strolled down it, and identified a home at the end of the block that seemed quaint and beckoning. Beyond that, there was dark wood, with fireflies flitting in and out of the oncoming dusk.
