Fire and tragedy

I dreamed we were in a brightly lit supermarket, shelves piled to the ceiling. A fire, caused by a small lithium-ion battery among the cheap toys, had started a fire on one shelf that was rapidly extending upward. One of the lads on my son's soccer team (the whole team was apparently with my family in the store) grabbed a garden hose that was conveniently present, and began pouring water on the flames, but they continued to smolder. I was a wild, gesticulating mess, hollering orders for somebody to call the fire department, but people didn't seem to be paying attention.

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I dreamed we were in a kitchen of a random house. My friend D. from Brooklyn began having a breakdown: his mother, who in the waking world is fine (I had to confirm this), had passed away suddenly a few weeks back, and he hadn't told us. We encircled him and lifted his stooped, shaking body off a counter where he'd thrown himself.

In the second set of last night's dreams, I was in a fully lucid state. Total control, able to navigate the dream world and focus attention wherever I chose. It's been some years since I had that experience, but last night was extremely vivid, and seemed to last for hours.