“Dreaming permits each and every one of us to be quietly and safely insane every night of our lives.” ~William Dement
I wake up terrified. A heaviness sits on my chest. I feel paralyzed.
In the dream, a team of men in black run through a building laying small charges along the floor, then splashing everything with some sort of flammable liquid. The building is empty. Concrete floors and metal furniture.
I see this happening yet I am at an outdoor cafe with friends. One of them had just been diagnosed with breast cancer and she was sitting, topless, enjoying the sun. She swung her beautiful long hair from side to side. I clamored out of my seat. I had to go. I had to leave.
I collected my things in a brown paper bag and I started walking away. I left behind a blue and white chinese porcelain pot that I just love. I couldn’t carry it with me. I could just see it sitting there, one of my favorite possessions, and I had to leave it. I crossed the street, walked along side of the stone building and quickly turned the corner.
I walked more quickly; I ran; another block and another, putting buildings between me and the coming explosion. When the building blew, I wanted to avoid the debris that would fly through the air.
But nothing happened.
We were expected to go back to work tomorrow in the building that was primed to blow.
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