Dream Journal 6/21/16 | Dream #1: Fugitive

He pointed to the other end of the bank, where I saw a group of men entering. I was terrified to see that the group was made up of garishly dressed men, specifically, presidents that have been dead for years.

I was in the back of some kind of prisoner transport van with a dozen other people, all handcuffed, sitting quietly. At the other end of the van, one man was fiddling with his cuffs, and got them open. He helped the guy next to him get his cuffs off using some kind of tool, who then silently helped the next person, etc., until we were all free. The first man whispered that we were headed into the city, where there were currently riots in the streets. He said that once we got close enough to hear the crowds, we would rush the van doors, break out, and scatter. Continue reading “Dream Journal 6/21/16 | Dream #1: Fugitive”

Dream Journal 1/25/16

Present day.

Kyle, Liam, and I were shopping at Target. Our cart was piled high with toys, and topped with a few frozen pizzas, and a bottle of juice. We walked to the front of the store, and walked out the front door without paying for anything in our cart. Dozens of others were also leaving with carts filled with merchandise that wasn’t paid for. No one noticed.

As we drove home, the roads were lined with people carrying comically large cardboard boxes, all staring and waving at us as we passed by. The closer we got to our apartment, the more people there were, crowding the sidewalks and streets. As we pulled into our driveway, we were shocked to see that all the people with cardboard boxes were gathered on our lawn. As we rushed to push through the crowd to get inside, they started taking  wrapped gifts from the boxes, in all different shapes and sizes. In unison, they started singing Happy Birthday to Liam.

We quickly shut our door, shutting them out, and turned to see that our living room and kitchen were piled from floor to ceiling with boxes and presents. I picked up my phone and called 9-1-1, but the officer laughed at me, telling me to be grateful that so many people would give us gifts for our son, but I was too freaked out to be thankful.

The officer hung up on me, and Kyle and I started boarding up our windows, trying to block out the many strangers still standing on our lawn, and their singing.

And then I woke up.